3NISM 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

MRS.MATTIE  H.MERRILL 


MODERN  CHRISTIANITY, 


A  CIVILIZED   HEATHENISM. 


BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

"THE  FIGHT  AT  DAME  EUROPA'S  SCHOOL.' 


BOSTON: 
WILLIAM  F.  GILL  AND  COMPANY, 

SUCCESSORS  TO  THE  OLD  STAND  OF  SHEPAKD  AND  GILL, 

151  WASHINGTON  STREET. 
1875. 


STEREOTYPED  BY 

C.  J.  PETERS  &  SON,  73  FEDERAL  STREET,  BOSTON. 


PRESS  OF  RAND,  AVEBY,  &  Co.,  BOSTON. 


PEEFAOE. 


THE  question  which  is  beginning  to  agitate  the  religious 
world  is  not  whether  we  shall  continue  to  recite  damna- 
tory clauses  in  our  Athanasian  Creed,  but  whether  there 
is  any  creed  whatever  that  is  worth  reciting ;  not  whether 
this  form  of  Christianity  is  preferable  to  that,  but  whether 
all  forms  of  Christianity  pretending  to  come  from  God 
through  Christ  are  not  gross  impositions  from  beginning 
to  end.  No  man  who  reads  a  newspaper,  or  listens  to  a 
conversation  in  his  common  room  or  at  his  club,  will  con- 
sent to  place  the  impending  controversy  on  any  narrower 
basis.  Revealed  religion  is  on  its  trial  before  the  world, 
not  for  some  trifling  blemishes  which  a  little  mild  correc- 
tion may  mend,  but  for  its  very  life ;  and  if  the  clergy, 
its  natural  defenders,  can  show  no  intelligible  reason  why 
it  should  stand,  common-sense,  in  this  country  at  least, 
will  very  speedily  decide  upon  its  merits,  after  a  somewhat 
rough-and-ready  fashion. 

Christianity  is  one  of  two  things  ;  and  the  whole  matter 
before  us  resolves  itself  into  the  question,  which  of  these 
two  things  it  is.  It  is  a  human  philosoplry,  founded  by  a 
great  moral  teacher  called  Christ,  who  was  so  much  better 
than  Epicurus  or  Zeno,  inasmuch  as  he  hit  upon  a  system 
which  was  better  adapted  for  civilizing  the  world,  and- 
taught  precepts  nobler,  purer,  more  disinterested,  more 

3 


4  Preface. 

unselfish,  than  the  precepts  of  any  other  school  :  or  it 
is  a  distinct  revelation  of  God's  will,  brought  down  from 
heaven  by  Christ  the  only-begotten  Son ;  claiming  not 
to  improve  upon  human  philosophies,  but  to  supersede 
them,  to  upset  them,  to  annihilate  them ;  establishing 
in  their  stead  a  kingdom  mysterious,  supernatural,  un- 
earthly, opposed  in  every  sense  to  the  traditions  of  this 
lower  world.  Christianity  is  one  of  these  two  things  ;  but 
it  cannot  be  both  of  them  together.  If  it  be  a  very  ex- 
cellent philosophy,  it  is  not  essentially  divine,  because 
man  could  have  found  out  such  a  philosophy  for  himself; 
unless,  indeed,  }'ou  are  content  to  accept  God  merely  as 
the  indefinite  source  of  every  upright  principle  in  the 
human  mind.  But,  if  it  be  essentially  divine,  it  is  not  a 
very  excellent  philosophy,  because  it  forces  man  into  the 
highly  unphilosophic  attitude  of  holding  all  things  around 
him  in  utter  contempt,  in  order  that  he  may  win  a  heaven 
so  thoroughly  opposed  to  earth,  that  the  one  has  to  be 
finally  burnt  up  before  the  other  can  be  opened.  It  is  not 
a  very  excellent  philosophj*,  because  it  threatens  man  with 
a  hell  whose  tortures  are  so  unspeakably  horrible,  that, 
unless  you  suppose  his  nature  to  be  so  far  changed  as  to 
make  him  regard  pain  as  a  pleasurable  sensation,  every 
muscle  of  his  hand  and  foot  must  be  paralyzed  with  fear 
whenever  he  contemplates  his  possible  doom.  It  is  not  a 
very  excellent  philosophy,  because  it  demands  the  con- 
stant imitation,  in  every  word  and  deed,  of  a  Christ  who 
never  opened  his  mouth  without  furiously  enraging  all  the 
philosophers  of  the  day ;  and  who  made  himself  either  a 
laughing-stock,  or  an  object  of  absolute  detestation,  to 
every  creature  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  excepting 
those  for  whose  benefit  he  was  working  miracles,  or  per- 
forming acts  of  superhuman  love,  —  acts  as  contrary  to 


Preface.  5 

every  philosophic  principle  as  light  is  contrary  to  dark- 
ness. It  is  not  a  very  excellent  philosophy,  because,  in 
the  Catholic  Church  at  least,  it  prescribes  a  form  of  wor- 
ship which  either  involves  the  most  absurd  superstition 
that  ever  amused  the  philosophic  mind,  or  commits  the 
faithful  worshipper  to  an  enthusiasm  of  devotion  so  in- 
tense, to  a  penitence  so  abject,  to  vows  of  amendment  so 
solemn,  that  his  whole  life,  if  he  pretends  to  live  out  his 
prayers,  must  needs  be  passed  in  the  defiance  of  every 
philosophic  theory,  and  in  the  atmosphere  of  another 
world.  Clearly  enough,  if  Christianity  is  the  best  means 
of  civilizing  mankind,  it  did  not  come  from  God  ;  and,  if 
it  came  from  God  through  Christ,  it  is  of  all  the  methods 
most  unlikely  to  promote  the  civilization  of  mankind. 

Now,  the  weak  point  about  our  present  system  of 
religion,  the  origin  of  all  those  doubts  and  difficulties 
and  contradictions  and  uncertainties,  which  tend  to  uni- 
versal unbelief  as  surely  as  cause  produces  effect, 
appears  to  me  to  be  just  precisely  this,  that  whereas 
Christianity  must  either  be  a  human  philosophy,  designed 
to  make  this  earth  a  pleasanter  place  to  live  in,  or  else  a 
message  from  God,  bidding  men  make  this  earth  as  un- 
pleasant to  themselves  as  possible,  so  as  to  secure  here- 
after the  joys  of  heaven,  —  our  weak  point  appears  to  be, 
that,  whereas  Christianity  can  only  be  one  of  these  two 
things,  we  modern  Christians  have  made  up  our  minds 
that  Christianity  shall  be  to  us  both  the  one  thing  and  the 
other.  And  we  shall  never  heal  our  divisions  and  distrac- 
tions, or  gain  any  real  influence  over  the  world,  or  cease 
to  provoke  the  contemptuous  smile,  or  to  enjoy  the  well- 
bred  forbearance,  of  reasonable  men,  until  our  archbishops 
and  bishops,  or  our  two  houses  of  convocation,  or  what- 
ever other  voice  maj*  be  supposed  to  ha  e  authority  among 


6  Preface. 

us,  shall  plainly  declare  which  of  these  two  things  Chris- 
tianity is.  If  it  be  only  a  human  philosophy,  then  we 
shall  know  what  we  are  about.  A  national  religion  is  a 
very  wholesome  thing.  People  have  always  set  up  some 
sort  of  superstition  ;  and  Christianity  is  probabl}r  a  better 
kind  of  superstition  than  any  other.  All  religions,  too, 
have  had  their  heroic  ages  and  their  myths,  their  ritual 
and  their  ceremonial,  their  promises  and  their  threats  ; 
and  there  can  be  no  reason  why  our  modern  religion  should 
be  denied  its  rightful  share.  But  if  Christianit}'  be  what 
it  pretends  to  be,  the  divinely-appointed  channel  for  sav- 
ing, throughout  all  eternity,  the  souls  of  men,  then  we 
are  instantly  brought  face  to  face  with  four  tremendous 
facts,  any  one  of  which  is  sufficient  by  itself  to  deter- 
mine, with  unhesitating  exactness,  what  our  mode  of  life 
must  be.  These  facts  are,  (1)  the  duty  of  imitating 
Christ,  (2)  the  prayer-book  standard  of  devotion,  (3) 
the  difficult}1  of  gaining  heaven,  (4)  the  everlasting 
flames  of  hell ;  and,  until  we  consent  to  alter  the  docu- 
ments wherein  these  four  facts  stand  inscribed,  we  cannot 
escape  their  logical  consequences,  theorize  as  we  may. 

We  have  to  imitate  Christ ;  and  there  cannot  exist  two 
opinions  as  to  the  sort  of  life  which  he  is  represented  to 
have  led.  The  one  characteristic  feature  of  his  conduct 
—  the  one  point  which  separated  him  from  the  philoso- 
phers who  had  gone  before,  and  made  him  distinctively 
Christ  —  was  his  opposition  to  the  world.  It  was  not 
merely  that  he  preached  an  unpopular  austerity.  This 
had  been  done  before  ;  and  the  openly  vicious  and  luxuri- 
ous had  relished  such  preaching  as  little  from  the  lips  of 
Socrates  as  from  the  lips  of  Christ.  The  point  at  which 
philosophy  stopped  short  (because  it  was  of  earth) ,  and 
Christ  began  (because  he  was  from  heaven) ,  was  in  the 


Preface.  7 

attack  not  on  vice,  but  on  virtue.  lie  taught  that  the 
righteousness  of  men,  not  their  wickedness,  was  as  filthy 
rags  ;  that  the  sternest  tj'pe  of  morality  was  worthless 
before  God,  unless  sanctified  by  faith,  and  beautified  by 
graces  sought  of  him  in  prayer.  He  taught  the  submis- 
sion of  the  entire  heart  and  conscience  to  his  Spirit,  as 
to  a  personal,  ever-present  guide,  without  whose  co-opera- 
tion deeds  might  be  fair  and  motives  honorable,  but  the 
inner  life  would  yet  be  lived  at  enmity  with  God.  He 
taught  thus ;  and  so  men  hated  him,  not  as  they  hated 
the  philosopher,  who  had  quarrelled  with  their  sensual, 
grovelling  pleasures,  but  as  they  could  only  hate  One  who 
threw  their  very  goodness  in  their  teeth,  and  convicted 
them  of  blindness  in  the  very  things  wherein  they  thought 
their  vision  was  so  clear.  And  so  they  hated  him  ;  and 
if  there  is  one  sj'llable  of  truth  in  the  Bible,  from  Genesis 
to  the  Revelation,  this  truth  stands  out  as  the  leading 
text  of  every  page, — that,  for  the  selfsame  reason  for 
which  these  men  hated  Christ,  their  fathers  had  hated 
God  ever  since  his  prophets  first  revealed  him,  and  their 
sons  would  go  on  hating  him  till  the  end  of  time  ;  would 
hate  him  as  they  hate  him  even  now,  because  he  interferes 
not  with  the  passions  which  they  know  already  to  be  bad 
and  evil,  but  with  the  standard  it  has  pleased  them  to  set 
up  of  the  lawful  and  the  good.  A  man  does  not  need  any 
Christ  to  tell  him  when  he  has  debased  himself  to  the  level 
of  the  beast.  His  country  punishes  him  for  open  notorious 
crime  ;  his  very  excesses  are  themselves  the  avengers  of 
his  darling  sin  ;  and  society  has,  for  the  most  part,  a 
sterner  sentence  to  pass  upon  special  forms  of  guilt  than 
either  conscience  or  penal  code.  It  is  the  office  of  Christ 
—  the  one  precise  office  which  makes  him  Christ,  and 
divides  him  from  all  the  moralists  that  ever  went  before 


8  Preface. 

him  —  to  convict  the  respectable,  upright,  good-natured, 
courteous  gentleman,  from  the  first  beginning  of  Christian 
centuries  in  Jerusalem  down  to  the  last  century  that  shall 
ever  be ;  to  convict  such  a  man  of  idolatry  and  stub- 
bornness of  heart,  because  he  is  being  daily  conformed  to 
this  world,  instead  of  being  transformed  into  the  likeness 
of  God.  If  Christ  is  any  thing  better  than  a  human 
teacher  of  self-consistent  truths,  it  is  at  this  point  that 
his  business  with  men  begins.  For  this  they  hate  him  ; 
and,  as  they  hate  him,  so  has  .he  declared  that  they  will 
hate  all  those  who  belong  to  him.  Until  the  world  is 
wholly  converted,  which  nobody  yet  pretends,  his  people 
must  ever  wage  with  it  a  deadly  war.  There  can  be  no 
peace  between  two  such  armies  as  the  soldiers  of  Christ 
and  the  servants  of  the  Devil.  His  disciples  must  fight 
as  their  Captain  fought,  making  themselves  an  offence,  a 
nuisance,  an  abhorrence,  to  every  man  who  is  not,  like 
them,  an  open  confessor  of  his  name.  This  is  the  one 
test,  the  only  test,  by  which  our  Christian  faithfulness  is 
to  be  tried.  Any  hypocrite  can  prate  about  his  faith  and 
his  feelings.  The  Christian  is  to  take  up  a  manful  posi- 
tion at  the  point  where  he  stands  most  in  need  of  all  his 
strength  and  courage  :  and  there,  openly  before  client 
and  friend  and  patron,  there,  just  where  the  struggle  is 
hardest,  is  to  suffer  and  dare.  Here  is  the  one  proof  of 
true  membership  with  Christ ;  for  in  this  world,  at  least, 
we  can  give  no  other.  I  refrain,  however  stronglj*  tempt- 
ed, from  quoting  texts,  —  partly  because  a  string  of 
quotations  makes  a  very  unreadable  book  ;  partly  because 
I  should  never  know  where  to  stop,  for  the  whole  New 
Testament  might  be  cited  ;  partly  because  I  am  unwilling 
to  mix  up  with  writings  which  may  probably  be  misunder- 
stood any  words  or  allusions  which  all  men  cherish  as 


Preface.  9 

sacred.  But  I  challenge  the  reader  of  any  Gospel  or 
Epistle  in  the  Scriptures  to  produce  one  single  page  which 
does  not  more  or  less  distinctly  set  forth  the  truth,  that  to 
be  hated  and  persecuted  and  ridiculed  from  morning  till 
night,  by  all  the  world,  is  in  all  ages,  ancient  and  modern 
alike,  the  eternal,  immutable,  unfailing  test  of  the  Chris- 
tianity that  comes  from  Christ.  Hold  any  theory  you 
please  about  the  extent  to  which  he  went  into  society,  and 
say,  if  you  dare,  that  he  dined  with  publicans  and  sinners 
because  he  liked  their  company,  and  relished  their  good 
cheer,  and  the  fact  will  yet  remain,  that  his  life  was  one 
incessant  declaration  of  war,  —  not  against  the  grosser 
forms  of  secret  or  open  sin ;  for  to  these,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  was  ever  most  merciful,  —  but  against  the  com- 
mon-sense of  the  clever  man  of  the  world,  and  the  god- 
lessness  of  public  opinion.  Make  what  allowance  yon 
please  for  weaknesses  of  the  flesh,  and  unavoidable  incon- 
sistencies, on  the  part  of  those  who  would  copy  an  ex- 
ample so  far  above  their  reach,  yon  cannot  possibly  deny 
that  Christ  has  made  his  life  the  exact  pattern  of  our  life, 
—  a  pattern  not  to  be  looked  at  from  a  distance  with  calm 
approval,  but  to  be  imitated  with  painful  efforts  which 
must  never  tire,  —  a-  pattern  which  we  can  only  follow  so 
long  as  our  attitude  is  one  of  vigorous  assault  on  every 
evil  thing  we  see  before  us,  —  a  pattern  which  we  have 
infallibly  declined,  if  we  are  so  much  as  on  speaking  terms 
with  the  enemies  of  our  Lord.  If  Christ's  example  be 
any  thing  to  us  at  all,  we  Christians  have  no  business 
even  to  stand  willingly  in  the  presence  of  an  ungodly  man, 
unless  we  are  feeding  him,  or  converting  him,  or  doing 
him  some  bodily  or  spiritual  good. 

The  plain   truth  is,  that  our  Christian  beliefs  are  im- 
measurably too  big  for  any  standard  of  Christian  practice 


io  Preface. 

which  common-sense  permits  us  to  follow ;  and  when  we 
find  ourselves  in  this  dilemma,  instead  of  confessing  that 
we  have  made  some  terrible  mistake,  and  that  our  beliefs 
are  either  all  wrong,  or  our  actions  indefensible,  we  are 
dishonest  enough  to  argue  backwards,  to  make  up  our 
minds  what  sort  of  life  it  will  be  sensible  and  sociable 
and  convenient  to  lead,  and  then  to  pretend  that  our 
beliefs  were  meant  to  be  qualified  in  order  to  agree  with 
our  predetermined  line  of  conduct.  We  admit,  for  in- 
stance, that  it  is  our  duty  to  imitate  Christ,  and  that  the 
one  characteristic  feature  of  his  life  was  his  state  of 
incessant  enmity  against  the  world.  "We  find  it  incon- 
venient, however,  thus  to  proclaim  our  religion  wherever 
we  go,  to  be  marked  men  in  every  circle  wherein  we  move, 
to  expose  ourselves  to  hatred,  persecution,  and  ridicule, 
whenever  we  come  in  contact  with  our  neighbors  ;  and  so 
we  calmly  assume  .  that  times  are  changed,  and  that 
whereas  it  was,  no  doubt,  the  Christian's  duty  in  the  earlier 
centuries  of  the  faith  to  fight  manfully  in  his  Master's 
name,  and  openly  to  publish  his  belief,  at  the  risk  even  of 
bonds  and  martyrdom,  it  has  become  the  Christian's  duty, 
in  these  later  days,  to  avoid  every  kind  of  singularity,  to 
do  very  much  as  others  do,  and  by  all  means  to  keep  his 
religion  smuggled  up  in  his  own  heart,  lest  the  wicked 
world  should  laugh  at  him.  In  short,  finding  that  Chris- 
tianity is  opposed  to  common-sense  (which  Christ,  if  he 
was  Christ  at  all,  must  expressl}7  have  intended  it  to  be), 
and  being  forced  to  make  definite  choice  between  the  one 
principle  and  the  other,  we  accept  common-sense  —  the 
philosophy  of  civilized  heathenism  —  as  the  guide  of  our 
daily  life,  and  keep  Christianity  for  our  acts  of  devotion, 
for  periods  of  solemnity  or  sentiment,  and  for  times  when 
we  think  we  are  going  to  die.  This  is  somewhere  about 


Preface.  1 1 

what  the  modern  Christian's  imitation  of  Christ  is  worth  ; 
and  I  ask  an}-  honest  man  to  sa}T  whether  such  a  contradic- 
tion between  faith  and  practice  is,  or  is  not,  a  barefaced, 
transparent  absurdity. 

No  less  apparent  must  it  be  that  the  second  of  our  four 
great  facts  —  the  prayer-book  standard  of  devotion  —  is 
utterly  incompatible  with  any  other  life  than  the  literal 
painful  struggling  imitation  of  Christ,  action  for  action, 
word  for  word.  Here,  again.  I  forbear  to  quote ;  but 
every  psalm  and  every  collect  supports  my  view.  If  the 
strong  crying  wherewith  we  seek  to  move  our  God  to  pity, 
if  the  grateful  thanks  we  render  him  for  his  abundant 
love,  if  either  prayers  or  praises  in  church  on  Sunday, 
have  any  sense  at  all,  they  positively  forbid  our  spending 
the  week  in  mone3--making,  or  woi'ldly  pleasure,  or  any 
other  work  than  that  of  anxious  prepai-ation  for  judgment, 
and  acts  of  mercy  towards  Christ's,  poor.  And  if  it  be 
thought  that  even  yet  there  is  room  for  cavilling,  that  my 
argument  proves  too  much,  and  that  the  example  of 
Christ  is  absurdly  beyond  our  efforts,  and  the  prayer-book 
standard  of  devotion  obviously  intended  to  set  us  aiming 
at  a  great  deal,  in  the  hope  that  we  may  reach,  at  any  rate, 
a  very  little  ;  if  this  be  urged,  then  what  shall  we  say  of 
the  other  two  tremendous  facts, — of  heaven  and  hell? 
Are  they,  also,  to  be  "  qualified,"  or  explained  away? 
Grant,  if  you  please,  that  Christ's  example  was  meant 
only  to  be  admired,  and  that  our  psalms  and  litanies 
have  no  loftier  practical  design  than  to  put  us  periodically 
into  a  devotional  frame  of  mind.  How  are  you  going  to 
deal  with  the  very  substantial  truth  (if  it  be  a  truth  at 
all)  that  forever  and  forever  each  one  of  us  is  to  dwell 
amid  the  inconceivable  delights  of  heaven,  or  the  appall- 
ing agonies  of  hell  ?  Have  these  familiar  pictures,  too,  been 


1 2  Preface. 

over-colored  by  our  spiritual  guides,  to  serve  the  very  im- 
moral purpose  of  tempting  us  into  morality  b}7  telling  us 
lies?  Or  if  they  be  reallj*  truths,  and  such  truths  as  to 
place  every  thing  but  themselves  absolutely  out  of  sight, 
what  can  any  reasonable  man  among  us  care  to  do,  when 
he  has  provided  food  and  clothing  just  sufficient  to  keep 
his  own  family  alive,  but  spend  the  entire  residue  of  his 
worldly  goods  in  ministering  to  the  poor  and  sorrowing, 
and  the  entire  residue  of  his  time  in  praising  Christ  his 
Saviour  for  the  blessed  hope  of  heaven,  or  in  tearful  sup- 
plication for  deliverance  from  the  terrors  of  hell  ?  If  it  were 
not  a  question  of  obvious  duty,  the  common  instinct  of 
self-preservation  would  be  enough  to  decide  the  matter. 
No  man  with  one  grain  of  sense,  if  he  soberly  believed 
that  he  was  to  live  upon  this  earth  for  threescore  years 
and  ten,  and  then  to  live  in  heaven  or  hell  for  threescore 
million  centuries  ten  times  told,  would  consent  to  spend 
one  short  minute  of  his  life  in  any  work  which  did.  not 
tangibty  and  obviously  tend  to  make  his  salvation  more 
secure.  If  this  should  be  denied,  and  it  should  be  urged 
that  the  mind  of  man  is  constituted  with  a  view  to  present 
action,  and  is  incapable  of  brooding  over  possible  futu- 
rities, I  would  ask,  Who  constituted  it  thus?  Has  God, 
who  is  represented  as  all-merciful,  and  as  longing  to  save 
our  souls,  has  he  threatened  us  with  everlasting  torment, 
if  we  do  not  obey  his  will,  and  at  the  same  time  so 
created  us  as  to  make  it  impossible  for  us  to  be  very 
much  afraid  of  his  judgments?  Has  he  said  to  us  poor, 
miserable  creatures,  "I  shall  damn  you  to  all  eternity, 
if  you  do  not  consecrate  j'our  whole  life  and  being  to 
my  service  ;  but  if  you  dare  to  be  overwhelmed  with  ter- 
ror at  such  a  thought,  and  to  go  about  weeping,  and 
wringing  your  hands,  and  crying  to  me  for  salvation,  I 


Preface.  1 3 

shall  say  that  yon  are  neglecting  your  worldly  duties,  and 
shall  damn  you  all  the  more  "  ?  This,  if  you  come  to  look 
the  matter  fairly  in  the  face,  is  what  the  modern  Christian 
tries  to  make  himself  believe  that  God  has  said,  when  he 
pretends  that  God  has  threatened  him  with  eternal  flames, 
and  yet  has  enjoined  upon  him  the  duty  of  being  meny 
and  glad.  Only  on  the  supposition  that  the  Christian's 
life  is  to  be  a  facsimile  of  Christ's,  and  that  he  who  does 
not  follow  him  painfully  step  by  step  is  crucifying  him 
over  again  ;  only  thus  is  it  possible  for  an  intelligent  being 
to  believe  that  any  man  can  deserve  to  be  forever  burnt 
alive.  If  it  be  true  that  the  human  mind  cannot  realize 
the  horrors  that  await  the  impenitent,  such  a  constitution 
was  never  ordained  by  a  merciful  God,  but  by  a  crafty 
Devil.  It  can  only  be  a  device  to  lull  the  perishing  mil- 
lions into  false  security.  And,  if  so,  the  very  existence 
of  such  a  device  strengthens  my  argument  a  hundred-fold. 
For  what  are  the  clergy  doing  ?  What  are  the  benevolent 
religious  lait}^  doing?  What  are  our  Christian  women 
doing?  They  stand  before  God,  responsible,  each  one 
according  to  his  gifts,  for  the  salvation  of  a  world  which 
neither  loves  nor  fears  him.  They  believe  not  only  that 
the  enormous  majority  of  themselves  and  others  will  be 
burnt  alive  forever,  unless  the  uncoveuanted  mercy  of 
God  steps  in  specially  to  save  them,  but  also  that  the 
Devil  has  been  so  subtle  as  almost  to  cut  off  man's  last 
chance  of  safety,  by  preventing  him  from  realizing  that 
being  burnt  alive  is  a  very  dreadful  thing.  And  yet,  with 
this  responsibility  and  this  belief,  they  laugh  and  sing, 
and  dance  and  play,  and  make  merry  after  every  conceiv- 
able fashion  which  their  tastes  suggest,  and  their  means 
afford.  Christian  women  drive  and  dress  ;  and  Christian 
men  hunt  and  dine  ;  and  Christian  children,  who  may  die 


1 4  Preface. 

to-morrow,  are  "told  to  enjoy  themselves  while  they  can  ; 
and  Christian  priests  and  Christian  bishops  join  the  happy 
throng,  and  say  that  it  is  all  right  and  proper,  and  laugh 
with  the  loudest,  and  joke  with  the  funniest,  and  would 
think  it  the  very  worst  possible  taste,  if  some  wicked  un- 
believer were  humbly  to  suggest  a  doubt  whether  any 
gentleman  or  lady  present  had  one  single  thought  in  com- 
mon with  the  persecuted,  despised,  and  sorrowing  Christ. 
This  is  what  orthodox  Christians  do.  And  when  the  simple- 
minded  Briton  wonders  much  within  himself  how  they  can 
reconcile  such  lives  with  damnatory  clauses,  and  the  abject 
poverty  of  Christ,  and  dares  to  ask  some  wise  philosopher 
among  them  to  explain,  the  wise  philosopher  falls  upon 
him  straightway,  and  crushes  him  then  and  there,  and  tells 
him  that  he  is  an  infidel,  and  an  atheist,  and  a  free- 
thinker, and  a  sceptic,  and  laughs  to  scorn  his  ignorance 
in  presuming  to  suppose,  that  because  Christ  was  poor,  and 
bade  his  followers  be  like  him,  there  is  any  thing  in  the 
world  to  prevent  a  Christian  bishop  from  taking  rank 
among  dukes  and  earls,  and  enjoying  an  income  of  fifteen 
thousand  pounds  a  year  ;  or  that  the  fact  that  each  one  of 
us  stands  in  peril  of  torments  that  shall  never  cease  is 
any  reason  whatever  why  we  should  not  thoroughly  enjoy 
ourselves  until  the  da}r  of  torment  comes. 

The  few  weeks  lately  passed  have  witnessed  a  spectacle 
sufficiently  instructive,  in  the  judgment  of  an  ordinarily 
constituted  mind,  to  fix  the  value  of  ecclesiastical  anath- 
emas forever.  The  flower — perhaps,  rather,  the  ripe 
fruit  —  of  our  English  clergy,  the  richest,  luckiest,  and 
portliest  of  our  country  rectors,  as  well  as  the  most 
dignified  ornaments  of  our  cathedral  stalls,  have  jour- 
neyed pleasantly  up  to  town  to  discuss  with  wonted 
clerical  vigor,  and  something  less  than  clerical  concern, 


Preface.  1 5 

whether  or  no  it  is  to  be  "  believed  faithfully  "  that  a  vast 
majority  of  God's  creatures  will  be  tortured  in  everlast- 
ing flames.  How  these  gentlemen  occupied  themselves, 
when  released  each  day  from  the  excitement  of  debate,  we 
are  not  informed  ;  but  those  who  know  the  clergy  best 
are  best  aware  that  there  are  less  agreeable  ways  of 
spending  the  inside  of  a  week  than  accompanying  a 
clerical  friend  to  London,  and  that  such  visits,  for  the 
most  part,  are  by  no  means  to  be  accurately  described  as 
painful  pilgrimages  to  a  shrine.  We  do  know,  however, 
to  what  extent  the  members  of  convocation  maintained 
their  impressive  composure  during  the  debate  itself;  and 
we  never  read  that  any  canon  or  archdeacon,  however 
warm  he  may  have  waxed  on  his  own  account  in  sparring 
with  his  reverend  brother,  so  far  forgot  the  manners  of  a 
polished  gentleman  as  to  break  down  utter]}-,  out  of 
simple  kindliness  of  heart,  while  he  professed  his  awful 
belief  that  millions  upon  millions  of  his  fellow-country- 
men would  be  eternally  burnt  alive.  With  what  appetite 
our  dignitaries  attacked  their  dinner  in  the  evening,  and 
what  their  dinner  cost,  and  how  peacefully  they  slept  at 
night,  are  questions  far  too  practical  to  be  orthodox,  — 
questions,  indeed,  which  none  but  a  flippant  infidel  would 
have  the  bad  taste  to  raise.  It  shall  be  left  for  other 
than  flippant  infidels  to  answer,  at  their  leisure,  a  question 
yet  more  practical,  and  say  how  beings  fashioned  out  of 
common  flesh  and  blood,  with  human  sympathies  and 
human  ties,  with  wives  and  daughters  to  make  their  fire- 
sides bright  at  home,  and  happy  boys  leading  happy 
romping  lives,  and  running  every  conceivable  mad-Eng- 
lish risk  at  school,  can  talk  the  theology  of  the  orthodox 
Anglican  divine,  and  ever  care  to  eat  or  drink,  or  fall 
willingly  asleep  again. 


1 6  Preface. 

That  Christianity,  as  the  professed  religion  of  English 
men  and  women,  will  survive  the  scrutinies  of  the  next 
fifty  or  eighty  years,  is  more  than  I  ma}-  dare  to  say. 
But  this  much  I  will  say,  that,  if  it  does  survive,  it  will 
survive  on  the  principles  which  I  have  tried  to  sketch  out 
at  the  close  of  the  following  little  dialogue,  and  on  no 
other  principles  whatever.     Its  present  position  before  the 
world  is  hopelessly  untenable,  and  would  not  be  tolerated 
for  a  single  day,  did  it  not  manifestl}7  suit  the  world's 
purpose  to  extend  its  gracious  forbearance  yet  a  little 
longer  towards  so  valuable  an  ally.     Nay,  as  I  have  been 
taunted  with    unfaithfulness   for   daring   to   submit   that 
solemn  beliefs  ought  to  be  either  acted  out,  or  else  abjured, 
I  may  be  permitted  to  add,  that  our  modern  Christianity 
will  never  be  defended  by  any  man  who  is  not  personally 
interested  in  the  perpetuation  of  a  contemptible  unrealit}*, 
or  who  does  not,  for  some  higher  reason,  judge  it  prudent 
to  deprecate  inquiry  into  a  system  which  will  not  bear  the 
light  of  day.     If  public  opinion  (by  which  I  mean,   not 
the   so-called   rationalists  who   write,   but   the    so-called 
Christians,  also,  who  approvingly  read) , —  if  public  opinion 
cared  to  speak  its  mind,  public  opinion  would  proclaim 
itself  infidel  to  the  very  core,  —  infidel,  not  by  any  means 
as   denying   the   extreme   respectability  of   a   good   old- 
fashioned   conservative   reverence  for  the  Bible  and  the 
Church,  —  infidel,  not  as  feeling  disposed  to  contemplate 
without  horror  and  alarm  the  bold  avowal  of  atheistic 
tendencies  in  the  popular  mind,  —  infidel,  not  as  being 
blind  to  the  historical  fact  that  nations  without  creeds 
and  pious  traditions  have  become  reckless  and  revolution- 
ary, and  abandoned  to  disorder  and  misrule,  —  but  infidel, 
as  flatly  disbelieving  that   Christ,  the  very  and   eternal 
God,  did  visibly  live  on  this  •material  earth  the  life  of 


Preface.  1 7 

poverty  and  pain  and  sorrow,  which  every  one  of  us  Chris- 
tians ought  to  be  living  now ;  that  he  did  visibly  stretch 
'  his  arms  upon  the  cross,  that  we  might  crucif}'  ourselves 
with  him  at  ever}-  instant  of  every  day  ;  that  he  did  visibly 
mount  up  to  heaven  to  make  ready  a  place  therein  for 
those  who  are  brave  enough  to  live  as  he  lived,  and  die  as 
he  died  ;  that  he  will  visibly  come  again  to  call  us  trem- 
bling creatures  to  account  for  every  word  we  speak,  and 
every  act  we  do  ;  that  he  will  cast  into  flames  intolerable, 
that  shall  never,  never  be  quenched,  each  one  of  us  living 
men  and  women  who  has  been  afraid  to  confess  him 
boldly  before  all  the  world.  This  is  what  public  opinion 
disbelieves,  and  what  the  Catholic  Church  proclaims. 
•This,  and  nothing  short  of  this,  is  the  Christianity  of 
Christ.  It  is  either  false,  or  it  is  true.  If  it  be  false, 
the  sooner  we  alter  our  Christian  documents,  and  leave  off 
threatening  men  with  judgments  which  will  never  over- 
take them,  the  better.  If  it  be  true,  I  confess  nryself 
wholly  unable  to  understand  how  any  man  who  seriously 
believes  it,  and  who  contemplates  the  horrible  destiny  of 
those  millions  of  living  ones  who  deny  or  ignore  its  truth, 
can  ever  cease  from  weeping,  or  ever  rise  from  his  knees, 
unless  it  be  that  he  maj-  go  forth  straightway,  and  implore 
his  sinful  brother,  for  whom  Christ  died,  to  escape,  while 
yet  escape  is  possible,  from  the  yawning  gulf  of  hell. 
MAKCH,  1873. 

2* 


MODERN   CHRISTIANITY,    ETC. 


TOWARDS  the  close  of  this  year's  long  vacation, 
I  received  a  visit  from  an  infidel  friend;  or 
rather,  as  I  should  perhaps  say,  from  a  friend 
who  is  a  genuine  heathen,  but  a  naturalized 
Englishman.  His  grandfather,  Sir  Jamjeebhoy 
Curtsetjee,  who  received  a  baronetcy  as  a  re- 
ward for  having  amassed  an  enormous  fortune 
by  opium-smuggling,  was,  no  doubt,  a  rigorous 
Parsee ;  but  my.  friend  appears  to  have  found 
the  ancient  tenets  of  his  faith  somewhat  incon- 
venient, and  to  have  gradually  drifted  into  be- 
lieving in  nothing  whatever.  I  should  not,  on 
that  account,  style  him  as  a  "heathen  of  the 
worst  class :  "  at  any  rate,  if  such  be  his  unhappy 
state,  hje  contrives  so  successfully  to  conceal  his 
degradation  as  to  pass  among  his  fellows  at  Lin- 
coln's Inn  for  as  good  a  Christian  as  most  other 


I'J- 


2O  Modern  Christianity, 

people.  Though  thoroughly  well  acquainted 
with  the  religious  controversies  of  the  day,  he 
is  not  fond,  as  a  general  rule,  of  talking  about 
them ;  and  probably  nobody,  excepting  myself 
and  half  a  dozen  equally  intimate  friends,  has  any 
idea  that  he  is  a  heathen  at  all.  To  this  short 
sketch  of  his  natural  history,  I  will  only  add,  that 
being  a  younger  brother,  and  in  no  danger  of 
succession  to  the  family  honors,  he  has  had  the 
good  sense  to  abbreviate  his  name  to  Curtis; 
that  he  has  read,  with  considerable  diligence,  the 
Bible  and  other  Christian  books;  and  that  he 
is  distinguished,  even  among  members  of  his 
own  learned  profession,  for  the  remarkable  vigor 
and  acuteness  of  his  mind. 

As  for  me,  I  hold  a  small  town-living  in  the 
south  of  England,  —  small,  that  is,  in  point  of 
income,  but  a  good  deal  larger  than  I  like 
as  regards  population.  However,  I  "keep"  a 
curate,  who  shares  my  work ;  and,  both  of  us 
being  bachelors,  we  get  on  very  well  together. 
I  congratulate  myself  the  rather  on  this  point, 
because  my  married  friend  Jones,  who  holds  an 
adjacent  rectory,  can  never  by  any  chance  keep 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  21 

a  curate  for  six  weeks  at  a  time.  If  the  poor 
young  man  be  single,  Mrs.  Jones  sits  upon  him 
to  that  extent,  that  the  place  becomes  unendur- 
able ;  and,  if  he  be  married,  the  two  wives  grow 
so  frightfully  jealous  of  one  another's  influence 
in  the  parish,  that  it  is  more  than  the  two  hus- 
bands can  do  to  keep  the  peace  between  them. 

On  the  whole,  I  am  pretty  comfortably  off. 
I  have  good  health,  kind  neighbors,  and  work 
which  suits  me.  I  do  not  know  what  a  man 
can  wish  besides.  I  can  drive  my  friends  from 
the  station  in  my  own  trap,  and  give  them  a 
very  fair  bottle  of  claret  after  dinner.  It  was 
on  this  wise  that  I  entertained  my  heathen 
guest  some  weeks  ago ;  and,  when  we  had 
drunk  as  much  wine  as  was  good  for  us,  we 
made  ourselves  very  particularly  snug  in  my 
study,  over  a  couple  of  long  clay  pipes  and  a 
small  September  fire. 

"  I  see  that  your  archbishop  has  been  pitch- 
ing into  us,"  observed  Curtis,  throwing  down 
"  The  Times." 

"  Upon  my  word,"  answered  I,  "it  seems  to 
me  that  you  are  all  making  a  great  fuss  about 


22  Modern  Christianity, 

nothing!  It  is  hard  lines  indeed,  that  a  man 
can't  say  a  few  commonplace  words  on  an  ex- 
ceedingly commonplace  subject,  but  they  must 
be  telegraphed  all  over  the  universe,  as  if  he 
were  a  lawgiver." 

"  Oh!  pray  don't  suppose  that  I  am  going  to 
quarrel  with  him,"  rejoined  my  friend.  "  From 
his  point  of  view,  he  is  quite  right  to  say  that 
we  are  in  a  state  of  darkness,  and  need  conver 
sion.  Only,  if  he,  or  any  one  else  who  holds 
with  him,  imagines  that  he  is  at  all  likely  to 
convert  us,  he  labors  under  a  very  painful  de- 
lusion." 

"And  why?" 

"  Simply  because  we  should  scarcely  think  it 
worth  while  to  make  so  very  insignificant  a 
change.  We  are  all  pretty  much  as  he  is 
already.  Tell  me,  my  dear  fellow  :  what  should 
I  have  to  give  up,  if  I  turned  Christian  to- 
morrow ?  " 

"Give  up?  Oh!  why  —  let  me  see.  Oh! 
you  would  have  to  give  up  lots  of  things." 

"  Well,  let  us  have  one  thing  at  a  time." 

"  Oh !  of  course :  you  would  have  to  give  up 
—  let  me  see.  You  don't  drink,  do  you  ?  " 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  23 

"  About  as  much  as  you  do,  that  is  all." 

"  Nor  swear  ?  " 

"  No,  indeed !  I  think  the  habit  extremely 
weak  and  snobbish." 

"  And  I  suppose  your  life  in  London,  taking 
it  altogether,  is  tolerably  correct  ?  " 

"  Every  bit  as  correct  as  your  own." 

"  Ah,  well !  you  are  an  unusually  good  speci- 
men, you  see.  Upon  my  word,  old  fellow,  I 
don't  know  what  you  would  have  to  give  up, 
exactly. " 

"  No,  I  see  you  don't.  But  Christ  would 
have  known.  If  I  had  put  the  question  to  him, 
he  would  have  told  me  to  give  up  all  that  I 
had  in  the  world,  —  to  fling  it,  as  if .  it  were 
dung,  at  the  foot  of  his  cross,  —  and  then  to 
follow  him." 

"  Oh,  yes !  of  course,"  said  I,  knocking  the 
ashes  out  of  my  pipe,  and  reaching  out  my 
hand  for  the  pouch,  preparatory  to  lighting  up 
again.  "  Oh,  yes!  of  course.  If  you  put  it  in 
that  way,  I  see  what  you  mean." 

"  I  do  put  it  in  that  way.  That  is  the  way, 
as  far  as  I  understand,  in  which  every  question 


24  Modern  Christianity, 

touching  Christianity  must  be  put.  Now,  look 
here,  old  fellow.  You  won't  be  offended  if  I 
speak  my  mind.  I  am  a  heathen ;  and  I  don't 
believe  in  Christ  one  bit.  I  think  the  whole 
story  of  his  coming  to  this  earth  in  the  highest 
degree  improbable,  —  so  improbable,  that  only 
one  sort  of  evidence  would  induce  me  to  accept 
it  as  a  fact.  That  sort  of  evidence  I  do  not 
find  to  be  forthcoming  ;  and  therefore  I  reject 
the  entire  narrative  as  mythical  and  absurd." 

"  And,  pray,  what  sort  of  evidence  is  it  which 
would  convince  you  ?  " 

"  The  steadfast,  personal  witness  to  Christ,  of 
those  who  profess  to  believe  in  him.  I  myself 
deny  that  any  such  person  ever  lived ;  but, 
supposing  he-  did  live,  there  can  be  no  question 
whatever  what  he  said  and  did,  and  commanded 
his  disciples  to  say  and  do ;  for,  however  diffi- 
cult the  interpretation  of  your  Bible  may  some- 
times be  with  regard  to  doctrine,  in  the  matter 
of  practical  conduct  it  is  absolutely  consistent 
from  beginning  to  end.  The  text  of  the  entire 
New  Testament  enjoins  one  leading  principle, 
which  no  child  can  misunderstand ;  and  that 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  25 

principle  is  the  downright  literal  renunciation 
of  this  present  world.  Every  species  of  self- 
indulgence  is  declared  to  be  sinful.  The  Chris- 
tian is  to  permit  himself  no  kind  of  pleasure, 
but  the  pleasure  which  comes  to  him  out  of 
communion  with  Christ.  At  every  point,  in 
season  and  out  of  season,  he  is  to  fight  with 
all  his  strength  against  the  spirit  of  worldliness ; 
and,  lest  there  should  arise  any  mistake  about 
terms,  worldliness  is  over  and  over  again  defined, 
with  palpable  clearness,  to  be  every  thing  and 
any  thing  outside  Christ.  Without  immediate 
reference  to  Christ,  as  to  a  personal  guide  stand- 
ing ever  by,  no  action  is  to  be  performed,  no 
word  spoken,  no  thought  conceived.  This  is  the 
sort  of  life  which  .the  founder  of  Christianity 
has  bidden  his  disciples  lead.  Will  you  kindly 
tell  me  how  many  of  them  lead  it?  " 

"My  dear  fellow,  you  expect  impossibilities. 
We  are  but  human ;  and  no  man  on  earth  could 
lead  the  life  which  you  describe." 

"  Then  Christ  has  commanded  what  is  contra- 
dictory and  absurd,  and  Christianity  becomes 
ridiculous;  which  is  precisely  my  own  opinion. 


26  Modern  Christianity, 

I  don't  know  who  made  this  earth,  and  I  don't 
care ;  but  the  very  fact  that  it  is  fair  and  win- 
ning seems  to*  me  to  justify  men  in  thoroughly 
enjoying  themselves  while  they  live  in  it.  But, 
if  I  were  a  Christian,  I  should  not  think  so ;  for 
Christ  has  explained  in  the  simplest  terms  this 
very  mystery.  He  says,  '  You  shall  take  your 
choice.  This  world  is  filled  with  allurements 
and  delights  in  order  that  your  strength  of  pur- 
pose may  be  tried.  If  you  like  to  enjjoy  the  good 
things  which  it  has  to  offer,  enjoy  them,  and  lose 
your  reward  hereafter :  but  if,  for  love  towards 
me,  you  are  content  to  sacrifice  all  that  gives 
you  pleasure  on  earth,  and  to  follow,  step  by 
step,  my  pure  and  self-denying  life,  you  shall 
have  tribulation  here  ;  but  joy,  such  as  never 
entered  into  the  heart  of  man,  shall  be  your 
portion  in  heaven.'  Now,  you  Christians  appear 
to  think  that  you  can  have  as  much  of  this 
world's  pleasure  as  you  care  to  have,  and  secure 
the  pleasures  of  the  world  to  come  besides." 

"  We  don't  think  any  thing  of  the  kind,"  said 
I;  "but  you  can't  expect  our  faith  and  practice 
to  be  everywhere  and  always  consistent." 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  27 

"  No ;  I  expect  nothing  half  so  unreasonable. 
But  my  charge  against  you  is  not  that  you  are 
inconsistent,  and  that  you  fall,  through  weak- 
ness of  the  flesh,  far  short  of  the  standard  set 
for  your  imitation,  but  that  you  claim  it  is  a 
right,  and  uphold  it  as  a  duty,  to  mix  just  as 
freely  with  the  world  as  if  you  were  heathens. 
In  this  matter  the  modern  Christian,  with  con- 
summate impudence,  flatly  gives  the  lie  to  every 
precept  of  his  Master.  Christ  says,  'Renounce 
the  world.  Come  out  of  it.  Have  nothing  to 
do  with  it.  It  is  utterly  opposed  to  me ;  and,  if 
you  would  be  my  disciple,  you  must  take  care 
that  it  be  utterly  opposed  to  you.'  The  modern 
Christian  says,  '  I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind. 
On  the  contrary,  I  conceive  it  to  be  my  special 
business  to  remain  in  the  world,  to  do  very 
much  as  other  people  do,  and  to  show  all  men 
how  possible  it  is  to  serve  God,  and  conform  to 
the  usages  of  society,  as  well.'  Christ  says, 
'  Strip  yourself  of  your  wealth.  Give  it  up  to 
me, — all,  all  of  it,  —  and  make  yourself  poor, 
that  I  may  enrich  you  with  treasures  in  heaven.' 
The  modern  Christian  says,  'No.  I  don't 


28  Modern  Christianity, 

believe  that  any  such  tremendous  sacrifice  is 
required  of  me.  The  good  things  of  this  world 
were  bestowed  upon  us  that  we  might  enjoy 
them ;  and  so  long  as  I  am  moderately  chari- 
table in  my  gifts,  and  refrain  from  indulging  to 
excess,  there  can  be  no  reason  why  I  should  not 
keep  my  money.'  Christ  says,  'When  thou 
makest  a  feast,  call  the  poor.'  The  modern 
Christian  says,  'By  no  means.  I  shall  do 
nothing  so  absurd.  The  duties  of  my  station 
require  me  to  keep  up  my  social  rank,  and  to 
dine  only  with  my  friends  and  equals.'  Christ 
says  "  — • 

"Well,"  -interrupted  I  rather  angrily,  "you 
need  not  say  any  more.  I  could  say  it  all  for 
you.  Of  course,  if  once  you  come  to  talk  like 
that,  you  can  condemn  us  and  our  conventionali- 
ties at  every  point.  But  how  is  it  possible  that 
we  can  act  otherwise  ?  If  everybody  did  liter- 
ally as  Christ  has  bidden  him,  the  world  could 
not  go  on." 

"Precisely  so.  And  that  is  the  reason  why  I 
disbelieve  in  your  religion ;  because  it  reduces 
all  things  to  an  absurdity.  But  you  have  no 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  29 

right  to  think  that  it  does  so.  Surely,  you  arc 
bound,  as  a  man  of  honor,  to  accept  Christ, 
absurdities  and  all;  or  else  to  reject  him  alto- 
gether. No  doubt,  the  world  could  not  go  on. 
But  did  it  never  occur  to  you,  my  friend,  that 
Christ,  if  he  came  on  earth  at  all,  must  have 
come  for  the  very  purpose  of  preventing  the 
world  from  going  on  ?  He  found  it  going  on, 
going  on  fast  enough,  and  something  to  spare. 
He  came  expressly  to  stop  it.  He  came  to 
defeat  its  progress  and  prosperity,  and  to  subdue 
its  kingdoms  to  himself.  What  are  the  maxims 
of  political  economy  to  Christ?  What  are  the 
intricacies  of  commercial  business  to  Christ  ? 
What  are  the  customs  of  polite  society  to 
Christ?  He  wants  your  life,  and  the  life  of 
every  creature  for  whom  you  say  he  died,  to 
be  given  up  without  reserve  to  him.  He  wants 
your  churches  to  be  thronged  with  faithful  wor- 
shippers, singing  his  praises  all  day  long.  He 
wants  your  homes  to  be  pure  and  lovely,  bright 
with  the  virtues  which  your  children  have 
copied  direct  from  him.  The  world  could  not 
go  on,  indeed!  No:  if  Christians  lived  as 

3* 


30  Modern  Christianity, 

Christ  has  bidden  them,  they  would  create  a 
revolution ;  and  a  revolution  would  be  in- 
convenient. Therefore  Christians  very  wisely 
determine  to  drift  along  quietly  with  the  world, 
and  let  well  alone." 

"  I  think  you  are  nara  upon  us,  Curtis  ;  I  do, 
indeed.  You  must  admit  that  Christianity  has 
wrought  a  great  change.  See  how  much  purer 
and  better  the  world  is  than  it  was  when  Christ 


came." 


"  Is  it  ?  I  very  much  doubt  the  fact.  Of 
course,  people  are  more  civilized  than  they  were 
eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  But  Christ  need 
not  have  come  upon  this  earth  to  civilize  it. 
Time,  and  the  natural  development  of  the  human 
mind,  would  have  done  that.  Or,  if  you  think 
that  time  alone  would  not  have  done  it,  at  any 
rate,  it  would  have  been  sufficient  that  some 
philosopher  —  some  very  good  man,  and  no- 
thing more  —  should  give  mankind  the  benefit 
of  his  teaching.  If  Christ  be  all  that  you  say 
he  is,  you  will  scarcely  put  forward  the  state  of 
social  or  public  .life  in  this  country,  or  in  any 
other,  as  a  satisfactory  result  of  his  work  and 


mission." 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  31 

"  No,  indeed  !  He  came  to  save  souls." 
"To  save  those  only  who  would  lose  their  life 
on  earth  for  his  sake.  My  dear  fellow,  youx  are 
in  a  desperate  difficulty.  You  are  defending  an 
illogical  position ;  and  such  positions  refuse  to 
be  defended.  Christ  says  distinctly,  that  you 
cannot  serve  God  and  mammon ;  and  you  Chris- 
tians, with  one  consent,  have  steadily  resolved 
that  that  is  precisely  the  thing  which  you  will 
do.  You  are  serving  God  and  mammon  every 
day.  And  you  do  so,  not  by  reason  of  incon- 
sistencies, which  would  be  pardonable  enough, 
but  as  a  matter  of  deliberate  purpose,  because 
you  believe  it  to  be  your  privilege  or  your 
duty.  And,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  you  good 
folks  who  call  yourselves  High  Churchmen  are 
the  worst  offenders  of  all.  The  old  Evangeli- 
cals, who  led  the  religious  revival  fifty  or  sixty 
years  ago,  although  so  one-sided  in  doctrine  as 
to  alienate  all  men  with  Church  tendencies, 
were  far  more  nearly  right  in  their  ideas  about 
Christian  practice.  Their  preachers  did,  at  any 
rate,  denounce  with  bravery  every  kind  of 
worldliness,  and  warn  men  that  the  whole 


32  Modern  Christianity, 

heart,  and  not  a  certain  part  of  it,  must  be 
yielded  up  to  Christ.  But  when  they  collapsed 
for  want  of  churchmanship,  and  the  Tractarians 
took  their  place,  straightway,  as  if  out  of  pure 
perversity  and  spite,  these  last  permitted  their 
disciples  to  indulge  in  an  almost  unlimited 
amount  of  secularity.  Because  the  Simeonites 
had  said  that  balls  and  operas  were  sinful,  the 
Puseyites  must  needs  maintain  that  it  was  al- 
most a  duty,  among  people  of  a  certain  rank  in 
life,  to  patronize  both  the  one  and  the  other. 
And  so,  when  the  Belgravian  fine  lady,  who  has 
been  lounging  and  frittering  away  her  morning 
after  a  fashion  of  which  any  intelligent  heathen 
would  be  ashamed,  bids  her  coachman  set  her 
down  at  All  Saints,  Margaret  Street,  at  five 
o'clock,  where  she  pays,  with  many  crossings  and 
bowings,  what  she  is  pleased  to  call  her  evening 
devotions  to  an  almost  unknown  God,  instead 
of  being  rebuked  for  her  hypocrisy,  she  is  very 
much  applauded  for  her  churchmanship,  and  is 
told  that  such  a  jumbling  together  of  temporal 
and  spiritual  avocations  is  quite  the  correct 
thing.  Indeed,  the  sight  of  such  a  woman  in- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  33 

side  a  church  is  enough  to  condemn  your  entire 
religious  system.  Look  at  her,  whether  she  be 
Belgravian  fine  lady,  or  wife  of  the  moderately 
affluent  parson,  or  an  example  drawn  from  any 
conceivable  class  between  the  two.  Look  at 
her,  with  her  bracelets,  her  diamonds,  her 
pearls  ;  look  at  her  dress,  the  very  materials  of 
which  would  buy  coals  enough  to  keep  ten  old 
women  warm  throughout  the  winter.  Why 
does  not  the  parson  tell  her  to  strip  herself  of 
her  ghastly  ornaments,  and  give  to  the  poor  ? 
Would  Christ  have  tolerated  such  a  woman  in 
his  presence  for  a  single  instant,  without  ad- 
ministering such  a  rebuke  as  would  have  rung 
in  her  ears  till  her  dying-day?  Look  at  her 
at  home,  with  her  lazy  habits,'  and  her  profitless 
pursuits,  and  her  silly  conversation.  Look  at 
her  drawing-room,  with  its  costly  mirrors,  its 
luxurious  sofas,  its  drapery,  and  its  gilding. 
Christian,  indeed !  Why,  you  must  know  per- 
fectly well  that  Christ  could  not  sit  in  such 
a  room,  could  not  stand  in  it,  could  not  so 
much  as  look  in  at  the  doorway,  without 
condemning  the  monstrous  iniquity  of  such 


34  Modern  Christianity, 

wholesale  waste  and  self-indulgence.  Will  the 
parson  look  in  at  the  doorway  too,  and  tell  her 
this?  Not  he.  It  would  not  be  good  taste, 
forsooth ;  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  her 
ladyship  were  to  say  that  he  was  no  gentleman." 
"My  dear  friend,"  said  I,  "you  are  talking  a 
vast  amount  of  nonsense.  How  could  I  possibly 
tell  a  lady  to  strip  off  her  jewels,  and  give  them 
to  the  poor  ?  The  people  would  all  think  me 
mad,  and  I  should  lose  half  my  influence  in  the 
parish  for  ever  and  ever.  And,  as  for  drawing- 
room  luxuries,  you  must  understand  that  Chris- 
tianity does  not  pretend  to  lay  down  laws  about 
the  furnishing  of  private  houses.  People  must 
live  according  to  their  means.  Besides,  you 
are  most  unjust  and  most  uncharitable.  I  dare 
say  that  the  sort  of  woman  you  are  describing 
is  an  excellent  wife  and  mother,  doing  her  duty 
in  the  state  of  life  to  which  she  has  been  called, 
generous  to  the  poor,  good-natured  to  her 
friends,  and  full  of  kindly  feelings  and  liberal 
deeds.  There  are  dozens  of  such  persons  in  my 
own  parish;  and  it  would  be  an  uncommonly 
good  thing  for  society  in  general,  if  there  were 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  35 

dozens  more.     I  am  sure  we  cannot  afford  to 
run  such  people  down." 

"  I  don't  run  them  down  at  all.  I  am  per- 
fectly satisfied  with  them.  The  thing  which 
does  not  satisfy  me  is,  that  you  should  have  the 
assurance  to  claim  such  people  as  Christians. 
They  are  not  Christians  at  all.  They  are 
civilized  heathens.  Heathen  is  not  a  bad  word. 
It  does  not  mean  cannibal.  It  simply  means 
one  who  does  not  believe  in  God ;  and  a  man 
may  decline  to  believe  in  God,  and  yet  may  talk 
and  act  like  a  decent  member  of  society.  You 
Christians  have  contrived  to  make  the  word 
offensive  by  quietly  appropriating  all  virtue 
and  goodness  to  yourselves,  and  speaking  of  us 
poor  heathen  with  a  pious  shudder,  as  if  we 
were  in  a  helpless  state  of  darkness  and  ferocity. 
We  thank  you  kindly  for  your  compassion ;  but 
we  beg  to  say  that  we  are  accustomed  to  meet 
in  society,  every  day  of  our  lives,  dozens  of  men, 
and  dozens  of  women  too,  who  never  say  a 
prayer,  and  dozens  more,  calling  themselves 
Christians,  who  pray  after  such  a  fashion,  that 
they  might  just  as  well  save  themselves  the 


36  Modern  Christianity, 

trouble.  We  meet,  I  say,  continually,  dozens  of 
men  and  women  living  utterly  without  God, 
heathen  from  head  to  foot,  who  would  not  do 
a  mean  or  immoral  or  unkind  action,  and  would 
not  willingly  say  one  syllable  which  could  dis- 
tress a  friend,  for  any  consideration  in  the 
world." 

"  Then  I  say  that  such  persons,  whatever 
their  religious  professions  may  be,  are  practi- 
cally Christians." 

"  I  say  that  they  are  nothing  of  the  kind. 
They  disbelieve  in  Christ  entirely,  and,  as  a 
necessary  consequence,  disbelieve  in  heaven 
and  hell.  Whatever  virtues  they  exhibit  in 
their  lives  are  heathen  virtues,  common  to  all 
civilized  humanity.  They  are  in  no  sense  in- 
debted to  Christ  for  the  instinct  which  prompts 
them  to  be  good-natured  and  straightforward. 
It  suits  the  purpose  of  you  Christians  to  pre- 
tend  that  all  such  virtues  are  graces  bestowed 
in  answer  to  prayer ;  but  I  tell  you  that  men 
who  never  pray,  and  never  have  prayed, 
possess  the  highest  and  best  of  virtues  in  abun- 
dance, and  practise  them  continually.  What ! 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  37 

is  there  no  good-nature,  no  kindliness  of  heart, 
no  generous  impulse,  excepting  among  those 
who  profess  your  creed  ?  Am  I  a  savage,  be- 
cause I  do  not  believe  in  Christ  ?  Were  the 
ancient  Greeks  and  Romans  bloodthirsty  and 
brutal,  and  devoid  of  all  natural  affection  and 
honor  ?  You,  if  you  have  ever  read  any  clas- 
sics, must  know  that  they  were  nothing  of  the 
kind.  I  make  bold  to  say  that  there  does  not 
exist  one  essential  point  of  difference  between 
the  fine  lady  of  Grosvenor  Square  and  the  fine 
lady  of  Athens  or  of  Rome,  except  this  only,  — 
that. whereas  the  one,  towards  the  close  of  each 
day's  frivolity,  pays  her  devotions  at  St.  Paul's, 
Knightsbridge,  or  All  Saints,  the  other  per- 
formed a  similar  act  of  worship  at  the  tem- 
ple of  her  god.  Of  course,  in  numberless  little 
points  of  culture,  the  modern  lady  will  be  found 
to  surpass  the  ancient ;  but  this  is  a  matter  of 
civilization,  and  has  nothing  whatever  to  do 
with  Christianity." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.     It  has  every  thing  to 
do  with  Christianity." 

"  Then,  as   I   said  before,  you   claim,  as  the 

4 

206623 


38  Modern  Christianity, 

result  of  Christ's  mission  upon  earth,  that,  after 
eighteen  centuries  of  gospel  preaching,  he  has 
made  the  fine  lady  of  Christian  England  a  trifle 
more  good-natured  than  the  fine  lady  of  heathen 
Greece.  Truly,  a  most  glorious  triumph  !  No, 
no,  my  friend.  If  God  ever  humbled  himself 
to  be  born  of  a  woman,  it  was  to  make  some 
greater  difference  in  woman's  life  than  this.  It 
was  that  he  might  drag  the  fine  lady  from  her 
carriage  and  her  boudoir,  and  clothe  her  in 
homely  garments,  and  plant  her  by  the  bedside 
of  the  sick  and  dying,  —  plant  her  there,  not  as 
a  casual  visitor,  condescending  to  stoop  from 
her  greatness  just  once  in  a  way,  but  plant  her 
there,  and  bid  her  live  and  grow  there,  making 
it  her  adopted  dwelling-place,  where  she  might 
brighten  with  her  simple  goodness  the  abode  of 
poverty,  and  perhaps  of  sin." 

"But,  my  dear  Curtis,  many  of  our  women 
already  do  this  sort  of  work,  and  do  it  admira- 
bly well." 

"  I  am  not  speaking  of  those  who  do  it,  but 
of  those  who  don't.  Will  you  maintain  that  a 
hundredth  part  of  those  who  might  do  it  are 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  39 

thus  engaged?  And  have  you  the  courage, 
under  your  present  refined  system  of  religious 
teaching,  have  you  the  courage  to  tell  one  fine 
lady  to  her  face,  as  you  hand  her  down  to 
dinner,  that  this  is  the  work  to  which  her  life 
should  be  devoted  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  could  dare  to  tell  her  so,  if 
I  thought  it  wise.  But  I  should  not  think  it 
wise,  by  any  means.  You  appear  to  me  to  mis- 
understand entirely  the  object  of  Christianity, 
and  the  essential  conditions  of  a  Christian  life. 
Christ  never  intended  to  make  us  all  monks 
and  sisters  of  mercy.  What  a  very  stupid,  hum- 
drum world  this  would  be,  with  nothing  but 
hermits  in  it !  " 

"And  what  a  very  stupid,  humdrum  place 
heaven  must  be,  with  nothing  but  saints  and 
angels  in  it !  " 

"  Don't  interrupt  me,'  old  fellow.  You  really 
must  be  practical.  My  idea  is,  that  Christ  came 
to  make  men  good  citizens,  useful  members  of 
society,  kind  neighbors,  conscientious  doers  of 
such  work  as  their  several  stations  in  life  re- 
quire. He  came  to  teach  us  great  principles, 


4O  Modern  Christianity, 

and  lofty  motives  of  action,  to  shed  the  love 
of  God  in  our  hearts,  and  to  sanctify  our  homes. 
If,  therefore,  a  man  performs  his  business  dili- 
gently, speaks  the  truth,  says  his  prayers,  and 
gives  what  he  can  spare  to  the  poor,  I  call  him 
a  good  Christian  ;  and  I  say  that  he  is  doing  all 
that  Christ  expects  of  him.  Some,  no  doubt, 
are  called  to  higher  deeds  than  others.  Some 
are  bidden  to  make  painful  sacrifices,  and  noble 
efforts  of  self-denial.  But  the  ordinary  Christian 
may  be  content  if  he  earns  his  living  honestly, 
believes  in  Christ  faithfully,  and  resists  the  Devil 
manfully." 

"  In  short,  he  may  be  content  if  he  attains 
the  level  of  a  highly  cultivated  heathen.  I 
quite  agree  with  you.  That  is  precisely  the 
level  which  I  trust  that  I  have  attained  myself; 
and  it  satisfies  me  moderately  well.  My  heathen 
code  prescribes  for  me  almost  the  identical  rules 
of  life  which  you  have  laid  down  for  your  ordi- 
nary Christian.  As  for  resisting  the  Devil,  and 
believing  in  Christ,  your  Bible  makes  it  plain 
that  no  man  does  either  the  one  or  the  other  to 
any  purpose,  whose  life  does  not  proclaim  his 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  41 

efforts  to  all  the  world.  Unless,  therefore,  your 
model  Christian  be  one  who  can  be  distinguished 
at  a  glance  from  his  fellow-men,  by  his  uncom- 
promising abhorrence  of  evil,  and  his  fearless 
devotion  to  his  Master's  name,  —  in  which  case 
he  becomes  at  once  my  ideal  of  a  true  follower 
of  Christ,  and  ceases  to  be  yours,  —  we  may  leave 
out  the  two  last  items  of  your  definition,  and 
consider  the  others  only.  Well,  then,  like  the 
Christian,  I  must  work:  if  I  don't,  I  am  a 
sluggard,  and  not  a  man.  Like  him,  I  must  be 
temperate  in  my  habits :  if  not,  I  become  a 
brute,  and  not  an  intellectual  being.  Like  him, 
I  must  be  civil  and  considerate :  if  not,  I  am  a 
cur,  and  not  a  gentleman.  All  these  things, 
however,  I  learn,  not  in  any  sense  from  Chris- 
tianity, but  from  civilization.  And  it  is  of  such 
men  as  myself  that  the  decently  behaved  ma- 
jority in  your  Christian  world  is  composed. 
You  have  made  an  egregious  mistake  in  calling 
this  country  of  yours  a  Christian  country.  It 
is  nothing  of  the  sort.  It  is  a  genuine  heathen 
country.  Its  principles  are  heathen ;  its  policy 
is  heathen;  its  laws  are  heathen.  Look  at 


42  Modern  Christianity, 

that  newspaper  on  the  table.  From  the  first 
column  to  the  last  it  is  utterly  heathen ;  and  it 
forms  the  expression  of  public  opinion  through- 
out the  land.  I  am  not  abusing  it.  I  delight 
in  it.  I  read  my  '  Times '  every  day,  and  my 
1  Saturday  '  every  week.  I  don't  always  agree 
with  what  they  say,  though  I  usually  find,  that, 
on  most  subjects  of  general  interest,  they  take 
a  sound  and  sensible  view ;  but  it  is  always  a 
purely  heathen  view.  The  editors  themselves 
would  not  pretend  that  it  is  otherwise.  It  is 
the  view  of  writers  who  leave  Christ  entirely 
out  of  the  question,  who  would  never  dream 
of  stopping  to  consider  what  Christ  might  have 
to  say  about  this  or  that.  They  would  laugh 
at  you,  if  you  suggested  such  a  thing.  The 
public  press  is  concerned  with  the  rights  of 
the  people,  the  prosperity  of  the  country,  and 
the  temporal  welfare  of  mankind.  It  utterly 
ignores  Christ  and  Christianity.  And  yet  you 
Christians  read  it,  regulate  your  opinion  by 
it,  and  suffer  it  to  influence  insensibly  your 
thoughts,  your  principles,  your  moral  tone. 
And  all  the  while  you  cannot  doubt,  that,  if 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  43 

Christ  should  come  on  earth  again,  the  very 
first  thing  he  would  do  would  be  to  denounce 
the  modern  newspaper  as  godless  and  devilish 
and  abominable.  How  could  he  do  otherwise  ? 
Is  it  conceivable  that  Christ  and  '  The  Times ' 
should  exist  together  ?  that  He  whose  purpose 
it  is  to  subdue  the  hearts  of  all  men  to  himself 
should  suffer  them,  at  one  and  the  same  moment, 
to  be  subdued  by  a  power  so  gigantic  as  the 
voice  of  public  opinion?  Could  he  permit,  do 
you  suppose,  the  discussion  of  creeds  and  doc- 
trines on  the  heathen  principle  of  common- 
sense,  and  not  on  the  Christian  principle  of  what 
God  has  chosen  to  reveal  ?  Of  course  he  could 
not:  the  two  systems  are  as  fire  and  water. 
And  the  very  fact  that  you  parsons  allow  '  The 
Times '  to  be  brought  to  your  house,  shows 
plainly  enough  how  you  have  abandoned  Chris- 
tianity, and  drifted  quietly  into  civilization.  I 
do  not  blame  you.  I  rejoice  to  think  that  you 
should  have  had  the  good  sense  to  discard  what 
I  believe  to  be  an  obsolete  and  foolish  super- 
stition. But  I  am  bound  to  say  that  the  course 
you  have  taken  seems  to  me  one  of  very 


44  Modern  Christianity, 

questionable  honesty.  Christ  has  told  you  to 
fight  vigorously  against  the  world :  you  have 
coolly  made  peace  with  it.  Nay,  he  has  de- 
clared this  incessant  conflict  to  be  the  very 
condition  of  your  membership  with  him :  you 
have  repudiated  the  conditions,  while  yet  you 
claim  the  membership.  Christ  has  said  that  the 
joys  of  this  life  are  wholly  incompatible  with 
the  joys  of  the  life  to  come  :  you  Christians  take 
your  fill  of  pleasure  on  •  this  earth,  and  expect 
to  have  pleasure  also  in  heaven.  In  your 
amusements,  you  go  just  the  length  which  we 
heathen  go,  and  stop  short  exactly  where  we 
stop  short,  —  at  that  point,  namely,  where 
pleasure  begins  to  pall  upon  the  fancy,  and  self- 
indulgence  interferes  with  business  or  with 
health.  Whatever  delights  common-sense  per- 
mits to  heathens,  Christianity  permits  to 
Christians,  and  upon  precisely  the  same  terms, 
—  that  they  be  moderately  indulged.  Surely 
you  cannot  be  honest  in  maintaining  a  position 
so  extremely  like  our  own.  You  ought  to  be 
fighting  with  us  for  your  very  life.  I  am  very 
glad  that  you  are  not  fighting.  I  greatly  prefer 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  45 

peace  to  war.  But,  then,  any  child  can  see  that 
you  have  made  peaqe  by  the  simple  process 
of  surrender.  As  Archdeacon  Denison  said  the 
other  day,  we  have  heard  a  good  deal  lately 
about  church  defence :  what  we  ought  to  be 
hearing  about  is  church  aggression.  At  pres- 
ent, the  Church  and  the  world  get  on  as 
harmoniously  together  as  if  they  had  every 
interest  and  every  principle  in  common.  Look 
at  your  bench  of  bishops.  There  they  are, 
some  six  and  twenty  of  them,  successors  of 
Christ,  specially  appointed  to  take  his  place  on 
earth  till  he  comes  to  claim  his  kingdom.  I 
should  just  like  to  know  what  single  thing  they 
are  doing  which  he  would  do  if  he  were  here. 
There  they  are,  pre-eminent  among  men,  not 
for  their  humility,  and  the  sanctity  of  their 
lives,  but  for  their  social  rank,  as  peers  of  this 
mighty  realm.  There  they  are,  with  their 
five  thousand  pounds  a  year,  and  upwards,  — 
an  income  not  to  be  spent  upon  the  spiritual 
wants  of  their  respective  dioceses,  but  upon 
themselves  and  their  children.  There  they  are, 
with  their  palaces  in  the  country,  and  their 


46  Modern  Christianity, 

mansions  in  Belgrave  Square,  dining  pleasantly 
with  their  equals  in  the  fashionable  world,  and 
never  guilty,  mark  you,  of  such  shocking  bad 
taste  as  to  denounce  the  frightful  luxury  of 
aristocratic  life  as  a  deadly  sin,  or  tell  a  spend- 
thrift nobleman  to  his  face  that  such  pursuits 
as  pigeon-slaughtering  and  horse-racing  are 
leading  him  anywhere  else  rather  than  to 
heaven.  It  is  all  very  well  for  your  archbishop 
to  talk  about  converting  us  poor  heathen.  Let 
him.  try  his  hand,  first,  at  the  conversion  of  the 
house  of  lords.  Why,  if  he  would  speak  and 
act  like  his  Master  Christ,  for  one  single  week, 
he  would  not  have  a  friend  left  in  London.  If 
he,  and  the  rest  of  the  bishops  with  him,  would 
.issue  a  solemn  protest  against  the  wickedness 
and  extravagance  of  the  rich,  they  would  make 
themselves  at  once  so  absolutely  oifensive,  that 
no  man  of  wealth  or  rank  would  ever  receive 
them  into  his  house  again.  And  this,  and 
nothing  less  than  this,  as  you  know  far  better 
than  I  do,  is  what  Christ  would  do." 

"My  dear  Curtis,"  said  I,  trying  to  look  hor- 
rified, "you  should  not  talk  in  such  a  way  about 
the  dignitaries  of  the  Church." 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  47 

"Dignitaries  of  the  Church,  indeed!  Why 
the  very  existence  of  such  a  class  is  a  flat  con- 
tradiction and  insult  to  the  teaching  of  Christ. 
If  your  '  dignitaries '  want  to  convert  the  world, 
let  them  go  about  in  forma,  pauperis,  and  wash 
the  saints'  feet.  But  I  perceive,  my  dear  fellow, 
that  you  are  determined  to  misunderstand  my 
line.  I  tell  you  again  that  I,  as  a  heathen,  am 
perfectly  satisfied  with  things  as  they  are.  I 
look  upon  your  archbishop,  and  your  bishops, 
and  all  your  clergy,  with  profound  respect.  I 
think  them  an  excellent,  industrious,  energetic, 
and  gentlemanly  set  of  men.  All  I  say  is,  that 
they  are  not  Christians :  they  are  heathens. 
I  do  not  say  that  they  are  savages.  You  good 
people  have  given  heathenism  such  a  bad  name, 
that  one  is  constantly  obliged  to  stop  short,  and 
apologize  for  using  it,  and  to  explain  that  one 
does  not  contemplate  the  case  of  a  gentleman 
in  paint  and  feathers,  who  dines  off  his  neigh- 
bor. When  I  speak  of  a  heathen,  as  distin- 
guished from  a  Christian,  I  intend  no  greater 
insult  than  when  I  say  that  a  Prussian  is  not  a 
Portuguese.  I  know  very  well  what  Christ 


48  Modern  Christianity, 

was  like ;  and  I  can  see  that  your  priests  and 
bishops,  as  regards  their  attitude  towards 
society,  at  least,  are  as  unlike  him  as  they  can 
possibly  be.  They  have  absolutely  nothing  in 
common  with  him.  They  are  outside  his  system 
altogether.  They  follow  his  teaching  just  so 
far  as  he  taught  principles  which  are  common 
to  Christians  and  heathen  alike ;  and  they  cast 
him  off  at  the  very  point  where  he  becomes 
distinctively  Christ,  and  ceases  to  be  a  mere 
philosopher.  They  are  simply  professors  in  a 
school,  of  which  Christ  was  the  historical 
founder,  —  a  school,  without  question,  the  most 
perfect  in  organization,  and  the  purest  in 
morals,  which  the  world  has  ever  known;  but 
a  school,  nevertheless,  and  nothing  more.  It 
will  last  its  time,  just  as  other  schools  have 
lasted ;  and  then  it  will  collapse,  and  give  way 
to  something  better,  or  something,  at  any  rate, 
which  better  suits  the  temper  of  the  age. 
There  are  not  wanting  signs  of  such  a  dissolution 
even  now.  That  which  was  to  make  Christian 
truth  durable,  nay,  eternal,  was  just  this,  —  that 
it  was  not  a  school  of  philosophy,  but  the  king- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  49 

dom  of  God;  that  it  was  not  of  earth,  but  of 
heaven ;  that  it  was  not  material  or  carnal,  but 
spiritual,  mysterious,  supernatural.  If  Christi- 
anity be  not  literally  this,  it  is  nothing.  If 
Christ  be  not  absolute  king  of  the  hearts  and 
consciences  of  men,  he  is  nothing.  If  the 
graces  and  sacraments  of  Christ  be  not  powerful 
enough  to  make  his  priests,  amid  countless  in- 
firmities of  the  flesh,  the  very  and  exact  repre- 
sentation of  himself  to  sinners,  they  are  nothing. 
The  moment  you  regard  Christianity  in  the 
light  of  a  secular  philosophy,  it  breaks  down; 
for  the  simple  reason  that  it  is  contrary  to 
common-sense,  and  does  perpetual  violence  to 
the  natural  instincts  of  mankind.  This  feature 
of  his  teaching,  as  Christ  himself  took  pains  to 
show,  is  the  one  feature  which  separates  that 
teaching  from  the  philosophies,  and  makes  it 
Christian.  It  cannot  exist  in  the  empire  of  the 
intellect  and  the  region  of  human  prosperity, 
because  it  came  on  purpose  to  destroy  them 
both.  It  was  expressly  meant  to  be  laughed  at 
and  scoffed  at  by  unbelievers,  just  as  Christ  was 
laughed  at  and  scoffed  at  in  his  day.  Nobody 


50  Modern  Christianity^ 

laughs  at  Christianity  in  its  popular  modern 
phase:  there  is  nothing  left  to  laugh  at.  It 
has  cast  away  all  that  was  ridiculous  in  the  sight 
of  men,  and  has  become  decent  and  plausible 
and  inoffensive.  It  does  not  dare  so  much  as  to 
hold  its  own  against  any  nameless  writer  in  '  The 
Times.'  The  obscurest  heathen  need  only  say 
that  such  and  such  a  stern  precept  of  Christ  is 
contrary  to  the  spirit  of  the  age ;  and  Christianity 
politely  agrees  with  him,  and  drops  that  precept 
out  of  its  moral  code.  My  dear  fellow,  let  us 
bring  the  matter  to  a  test.  Was  not  Christ 
laughed  to  scorn  by  one  half  of  his  unbelieving 
hearers,  and  cruelly  persecuted  by  the  other  ?  " 

"Yes,  no  doubt  he  was;  but  circumstances 
were  then  so  very  different.  Men  do  not  laugh 
at  Christianity  now,  not  because  Christianity  has 
changed,  but  because  they  have  learned  to 
believe  in  it.  Christ  has  subdued  them  to  him- 
self; and  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  have 
become  the  kingdom  of  Christ." 

"  Will  you  dare  to  look  me  in  .the  face  and 
tell  me  so,  when  civilized  society  has  made 
itself  totally  independent  of  Christ ;  when  Eng- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  51 

land,  from  north  to  south,  has  given  herself  over 
to  luxury ;  and  the  sin  of  London  alone  cries 
out  to  Heaven  a  hundred-fold  more  loudly 
than  the  sin  of  Babylon,  or  Nineveh,  or  Tyre  ? 
Don't  be  angry  with  me,  dear  friend ;  but  you 
parsons  are  so  abominably  unreal!  The  king- 
doms of  this  world  become  the  kingdom  of 
Christ !  Good  gracious !  Why,  I  never  go  to 
one  of  your  churches,  but  the  clergyman  begins 
to  preach  about  'these  dangerous  days,'  and 
protests  with  all  his  vigor  that  '  there  never  was 
a  time  when  infidelity  was  so  rampant,  or  vice 
so  flagrant.'  And  now  you  have  the  assurance 
to  tell  me  that  Christ  has  subdued  the  world. 
It  seems  to  me,  that,  when  you  want  to  make  a 
point  in  your  Sunday's  sermon,  you  declare  that 
we  are  all  under  the  dominion  of  the  Devil ; 
and,  when  you  are  taunted  with .  not  having 
made  much  progress  in  the  work  of  recovering 
us  from  his  grasp,  you  admit  that  we  are  not  so 
very  bad,  after  all." 

"  Nevertheless,"  I  answered,  "  there  can  be 
no  doubt  that  Christianity  was  intended  to 
accommodate  itself  to  the  laws  of  human  progress 


52  Modern  Christianity, 

* 

and  the  changes  of  society.  It  could  not  be, 
now,  in  England,  precisely  the  same  as  it  was 
nearly  two  thousand  years  ago  in  Judaea. 
Besides,  there  are  numerous  sayings  of  our  Lord, 
which  were  clearly  never  meant  to  be  received 
in  their  literal  sense." 

"I  deny  that  utterly,"  said  Curtis  in  reply. 
"  Your  modern  theory  on  this  point  is  a  bare- 
faced assumption,  for  which  neither  Christ,  nor 
any  one  of  the  New-Testament  writers,  gives 
you  the  faintest  spark  of  authority.  Whatever 
he  commanded,  he  expects  you  literally  to 
perform ;  and  you  have  no  right  to  filter  away 
his  words  until  they  enunciate  a  mere  abstract 
piece  of  philosophic  wisdom,  which  the  heathen 
and  the  Christian  may  both  alike  accept.  In 
the  whole  range  of  heathen  history,  I  never  yet 
heard  of  any  thing  so  palpably  dishonest  as  the 
way  in  which  you  Christians  have  repudiated 
the  words  of  Christ.  It  passes  my  comprehen- 
sion, how  you  can  stand  at  your  desk,  and  read 
a  chapter  out  of  the  gospel,  without  sinking 
into  the  earth  for  shame.  Every  sentence  of 
your  lips  condemns  you.  I  won't  insult  you 


a  Civilized  Heathenism*  ^ 

with  quotations ;  but  you  must  be  able  to  recall 
verse  upon  verse  of  Christian  precept,  which 
you  parsons  have  long  ago  agreed  among  your- 
selves to  regard  as  obsolete  and  unpractical. 
To  you,  just  as  much  as  to  us,  Christianity  and 
Christ  have  become  ridiculous.  My  dear  friend, 
if  Christ  were  to  come  now  in  human  flesh,  how 
should  you  receive  him  ?  " 

" I  am  scarcely  bound,"  said  I,  "to  answer  a 
question  so  absurd.  Christ  could  not  come  now. 
This  is  not  the  time  appointed  for  his  coming. 
He  came  when  God  saw  fit  to  send  him ;  and 
that  time  is  past." 

"  Still,  I  suppose  it  is  conceivable  that  God 
should  have  been  pleased  to  send  him  now. 
What  special  unfitness  of  time  or  place  should 
hinder  his  appearing  next  week  in  London,  if  it 
had  been  so  decreed  ?  " 

"  But  it  was  not  so  decreed.  Fitness  of  time 
and  place  made  it  necessary  that  he  should 
appear  in  Bethlehem  eighteen  hundred  and 
seventy  years  ago." 

"  Perhaps  you  think  that  the  people  in  Lon- 
don are  a  little  too  civilized  just  now  to  make 
his  appearance  among  them  a  success  ?  " 


54  Modern  Christianity \ 

"I  think  nothing  about  it.  It  could  not 
possibly  happen." 

"  Perhaps  we  good  folks  nowadays  are  a 
little  too  clever,  just  a  trifle  more  knowing, 
don't  you  see,  than  might  have  been  conven- 
ient." 

"Don't  talk  in  such  a  horrible  way!"  said 
I;  for  I  felt  that  the  man  was  becoming  blas- 
phemous. 

"Then  I  am  to  understand,"  continued  he, 
"that  Christ  could  only  have  come  to  earth 
successfully,  on  condition  of  his  choosing  an 
obscure  country,  and  hitting  upon  a  time  when 
there  were  no  special  correspondents  to  find  out 
all  about  him,  no  photographers  to  show  us 
exactly  what  he  was  like,  and  no  telegraphic 
wires  to  carry  his  words  of  wisdom  from  one 
continent  to  another?  If  you,  a  minister  of 
Christ,  are  prepared  to  admit  as  much  as  this, 
you  can  hardly  wonder  that  intelligent  laymen 
should  disbelieve." 

"Since  you  press  me,"  said  I,  "perhaps  one 
reason  in  the  divine  counsels  might  have  been 
this,  —  that  the  Son  of  God  should  be  spared  the 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  55 

additional  insults  and  indignities  to  which  his 
appearance  in  a  civilized  country  would  have 
exposed  him." 

"Ah!  now  we  are  coming  to  the  point.  And 
what  would  those  additional  insults  and  indigni- 
ties be?  What  should  you  Christians  do  to 
Christ  if  he  came  to  London  ?  " 

"Believe  in  him,  of  course.  Why,  do  you 
really  suppose  that  we  should  crucify  him  ?  " 

"No,  you  would  not  crucify  him:  it  is  not 
the  custom  of  the  day.  But  I  tell  you  what 
you  would  do.  You  would  laugh  at  him,  and 
hoot  at  him,  and  have  him  locked  up  in  a  mad- 
house. He  would  offend  you,  every  bit  as 
much  as  he  offended  the  scribes  and  Pharisees. 
He  would  interfere  with  your  life  every  bit  as 
much  as  he  interfered  with  theirs.  His  per- 
sistent, uncompromising  abhorrence  of  the  mild- 
est form  of  sin  would  appear  just  as  extrava- 
gant to  you  as  it  did  to  Herod.  It  seems  to  me, 
my  friend,  that  the  blind,  benighted  heathen  has 
given  you  a  tolerably  fair  test  by  which  to  try 
your  Christianity.  You  have  no  right  whatever 
to  say  that  Christ  could  not  have  come  in  1872 ; 


56  Modern  Christianity, 

and  the  fact  that  you  think  the  idea  so  foolish 
casts  a  very  grave  suspicion  on  the  sincerity  of 
your  own  belief.  It  is  a  relief  to  you  to 
recollect  that  an  event  so  extraordinary  took 
place  at  a  time  when  the  observation  of  men 
was  not  quite  so  acute  as  it  is  now,  and  when 
the  credentials  of  the  chief  actor  in  the  scene 
were  not  likely  to  be  too  critically  or  scientifi- 
cally examined.  You  have  not  courage  to  face 
the  contemplation  of  a  poor  despised  figure 
walking  wearily  through  the  streets  of  some 
modern  city,  and  claiming  to  be  your  Lord. 
You  feel  by  no  means  certain  that  you  would 
not  laugh  at  him  as  he  passed  along.  And  so 
you  pretend,  that,  although  such  a  visitation 
would  be  unfitting  now,  it  was  fitting  enough 
eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  What  wonder,  as 
I  .said  before,  that  when  you,  who  profess  to 
believe  the  gospel,  are  glad  to  thrust  as  far 
away  from  you  as  possible  the  vision  of  a 
personal,  living  Christ,  men  of  a  doubting  or 
speculative  turn  of  mind  should  find  it  hard  to 
persuade  themselves  that  he  ever  lived  at  all  ? 
But,  in  shirking  thus  the  difficulties  of  your 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  57 

belief,  you  do  not  ultimately  escape  them.  If 
God  had  so  designed  it,  Christ  might,  with 
perfect  fitness,  have  come  to  London  in  this 
present  year.  There  is  nothing  whatever  in 
the  condition  of  our  modern  society  which 
forbids  such  an  hypothesis  to  stand.  Civilization 
would,  indeed,  have  made  some  difference  in  the 
form  of  insult  cast  upon  him,  and  in  the  mode 
of  death  which  he  should  eventually  die ;  but 
civilization  could  make  no  difference  in  this,  — 
that,  whenever  and  wherever  he  appeared,  he 
would  have  done  violence  to  the  tastes  and 
habits  of  the  vast  majority  of  mankind.  A  tiny 
band  would  have  clung  to  him  in  England,  just 
as  a  tiny  band  clung  to  him  in  Galilee ;  but,  to 
society  at  large,  he  must  ever  have  been  a  posi- 
tive offence,  and  to  your  pleasant  gentlemanly 
priests  and  bishops  the  most  palpable  offence  of 
all." 

"  I  don't  think  you  have  any  right  to  say  so," 
objected  I ;  "  but  it  is  useless  to  argue  such  a 
question.  Of  course,  if  he  had  come  in  this 
present  century,  he  would  have  come  in  a  totally 
different  form." 


58  Modern  Christianity, 

"  In  what  form  ?  In  the  form  of  a  modern 
prelate,  softly  clad,  and  sleek,  with  a  couple  of 
palaces,  and  fifteen  thousand  pounds  a  year  ?  I 
very  particularly  doubt  it.  Whatever  guise  he 
took,  it  would  be  that  of  one  whom  men  de- 
spise ;  whatever  words  he  spoke,  they  would  be 
words  which  make  men  gnash  their  teeth  to 
hear ;  whatever  deeds  he  wrought,  they  would 
be  deeds  so  flatly  opposed  to  worldly  sense  and 
worldly  wisdom,  as  to  cover  him  with  ridicule 
and  abuse.  In  such  a  guise,  and  with  such 
words  and  deeds,  unless  the  whole  story  of  his 
life  is  an  imposture,  he  must  infallibly  be  dwell- 
ing among  his  people  still.  You  have  read 
your  gospel  superficially  indeed,  if  you  have 
not  gathered  from  it  this,  —  that  whereas  the 
philosophers  could  but  teach,  and  establish  a 
sect,  and  die,  Christ  would  abide  with  his 
Church  forever.  Patriarchs  and  prophets  had 
striven  darkly  and  dimly  to  represent  God  to 
man ;  and  they  had  failed.  Christ  was  now  to 
produce  a  form  of  testimony  altogether  new,  — 
a  testimony  real,  ever  present,  personal,  —  a  tes- 
timony which  should  proclaim  the  truth  as 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  59 

plainly  in  modern  Paris,  or  London,  or  Berlin,  as 
in  Jerusalem  or  Galilee  of  old.  Henceforth, 
men  were  not  to  hear  of  God,  but  to  see  him,  — 
to  see  him,  triumphing  in  every  martyr's  death, 
glorified  by  each  confessor's  courage,  shining  in 
the  pure  devotion  of  his  faithful  priests,  win- 
some with  the  grace  and  loveliness  of  holy 
women  who  had  dedicated  their  lives  to  him. 
Herein,  and  herein  alone,  does  Christ  become 
any  thing  better  than  the  founder  of  a  school. 
He  is  risen,  you  say ;  he  has  ascended  up  again 
to  heaven.  But  his  Spirit,  if  he  be  Christ  at  all, 
must  linger  here;  and,  if  his  Spirit  has  any 
strength  that  can  rightly  be  called  divine,  it 
must  be  manifesting  him  with  a  brightness  which 
cannot  be  hid,  wherever  his  saints  and  children 
dwell.  Tell  me,  my  friend,  whereabouts  such 
a  place  may  be.  It  is  not  in  your  churches, 
where  congregations  of  good-natured,  worldly- 
minded  men  and  women  offer  up  prayers  to  God, 
with  lips  so  insincere,  that  they  might  just  as  well 
be  offering  them  up  to  Jupiter.  It  is  not  in 
your  bishops'  palaces,  where  the  apostles  of  a 
homeless,  footsore  Jesus  maintain  with  befitting 


60  Modern  Christianity^ 

pomp  and  circumstance  the  dignity  of  the  epis- 
copal chair.  It  is  not  in  the  snug  country 
parsonage,  where  the  rector  has  settled  himself 
comfortably  in  the  midst  of  rural  poverty  and 
distress,  and  his  charming  wife  and  daughters 
fare  sumptuously  every  day.  Such  men,  believe 
me,  cannot  be  Christ  to  the  thirsty,  perishing 
multitudes;  and,  because  they  are  not  Christ, 
they  are  nothing.  That  which  men  were  yearn- 
ing for,  as  the  fulness  of  God's  time  drew  near, 
was  personal  witness.  Christ  came,  and  gave  it 
them.  That  which  men  are  yearning  for  now, 
crying  for  from  street  and  garret  and  death-bed, 
aye,  and  from  the  closet  of  the  student  search- 
ing after  truth,  and  the  haunts  of  the  man  of 
fashion,  who  would  fain  be  something  better 
than  he  is,  is  personal  witness.  You  Christian 
priests  won't  give  it  them.  You  persistently 
withhold  it.  You  dare  not  be  to  the  world  what 
Christ  was.  You  boast  that  your  religion  suf- 
fers you  to  live  as  other  men,  to  enjoy  the 
pleasures  of  society,  and  indulge  in  moderation 
your  natural  desires,  just  as  the  well-conducted 
layman  may.  You  have  not  the  pluck  to  tell 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  61 

the  squire  to  his  face  that  his  life  from  Sunday 
to  Sunday,  purposeless,  idle,  frivolous,  if  nothing 
worse,  is  a  disgrace  to  your  Christian  village,  and 
a  transgression  of  the  law  of  God.  You  dare 
not  tell  him  so :  if  you  did,  he  might,  with  some 
propriety,  retort  that  your  life  was  but  little 
different  from  his  own. 

"I  can't  see  why  you  should  say  that  the 
average  squire's  life  is  a  bad  life." 

11 1  don't  say  it  is  a  bad  life  :  I  say  it  is  not  a 
Christian  life.  It  is  the  life  of  a  good-natured, 
gentlemanly  heathen.  Look  at  the  ordinary 
pursuits  of  such  a  man.  One  of  the  best  of 
them  probably  will  be  fox-hunting "  — 

"And  a  thoroughly  noble,  manly  pastime 
too." 

"  Extremely  noble,  for  fifty  red-coated  heroes 
to  chase  a  wretched  little  quadruped  from  cover 
to  cover,  and  from  field  to  field,  watching  the 
hungry  dogs  as  they  drive  the  breath  inch  by 
inch  out  of  his  body,  till  at  last  they  fall  upon 
their  victim,  and  (as  your  great  authority,  the 
Reverend  Mr.  Daniel,  says  they  ought  to  do  if 
they  are  decently  trained  hounds)  devour  him 


62  Modern  Christianity, 

ferociously  I  As  a  matter  of  opinion,  I  confess 
that  I  call  such  sport  brutal  and  cowardly. 
Nevertheless,  if  it  be  found  necessary,  in  order 
to  keep  the  country  gentleman  at  home,  and 
attach  him  to  his  tenantry,  I  can  afford  to 
admit,  from  a  heathen  point  of  view,  that  the 
end  justifies  the  means.  But  how  such  a  sport 
can  be  designated  as  Christian  is  more  than  I 
can  understand.  Is  it  possible  to  imagine 
Christ,  under  any  conceivable  circumstances, 
taking  pleasure  in  hunting  an  animal  to  death? 
In  a  Christian  aspect,  such  a  pursuit  has  not 
even  the  excuse  of  supplying  a  needful  occupa- 
tion, because  the  squire  ought  to  be  fully 
occupied  already  in  improving  the  cottages  of 
his  poor,  building  alms-houses  for  the  aged, 
beautifying,  to  the  full  extent  of  his  resources, 
the  temple  wherein  he  worships  his  God,  and 
preparing  his  soul  for  the  judgment-day. 
These  are  the  Christian  duties  of  a  country 
gentleman.  But  you  parsons  dare  not  tell  him 
so.  He  would  call  you  a  parcel  of  old  women ; 
and  you  prefer  to  stand  well  with  him,  and  to 
be  thought  muscular  and  manly.  I  was  told, 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  63 

not  long  ago,  by  one  whose  person  and  office 
I  eannot  but  respect,  —  I  was  told,  as  a  thing 
much  to  be  admired,  of  a  certain  exemplary 
squire  who  was  accustomed  to  ride  home 
from  hunting,  towards  the  hour  of  evensong, 
by  way  of  the  parish  church,  throw  his  bridle 
to  the  groom,  enter  the  sacred  building,  put  on 
a  surplice  over  his  scarlet  coat,  and  read  the 
lessons  for  the  minister.  All  I  can  say  is,  that 
this  gentleman's  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  if, 
indeed,  he  had  any  ideas  at  all,  must  have  been 
jumbled  together  in  such  inextricable  confusion, 
that  I  wonder  the  very  effort  of  thinking  did 
not  drive  him  mad.  And,  concerning  the 
parson  who  encouraged  a  phase  of  Christianity 
so  peculiar,  I  will  only  remark,  that  the  fact  of 
such  a  scene  being  permitted  to  take  place,  with 
the  sanction,  apparently,  of  the  bishop,  and  the 
general  approval  of  churchmen,  justifies  in 
every  point  my  opinion,  that  your  modern 
average  priests  are  veritable  heathen  philoso- 
phers, and  not  ministers  of  Christ  at  all." 

"Then  you  think  that  priests  are   bound  to 
be  mild  and  spooney  ?  " 


64  Modern  Christianity, 

"  I  think  they  are  bound  to  be  like  Christ.  I 
don't  know  whether  you  would  call  him  mild 
and  spooney :  I  more  than  half  suspect  that  you 
would.  And  I  think,  moreover,  that  it  is  in  the 
highest  degree  dishonest  to  claim  the  posses- 
sion of  gifts  which  are  essentially  spiritual, 
mysterious,  and  of  a  totally  different  world,  and 
all  the  while  to  maintain  a  muscularity  of 
thought  and  action  which  is  purely  and  entirely 
heathen.  Cherish  your  muscularity,  by  all 
means,  —  the  more  you  preach  and  practise  it, 
I  say,  the  better,  —  but  do  have  the  simple  can- 
dor to  confess  that  you  have  stolen  it  direct 
from  heathenism,  and  that  the  whole  current 
of  Christ's  example  sets  absolutely  the  other 
way." 

"According  to  your  ideas,  then,  a  parson 
ought  never  to  go  into  society  at  all.  Now,  I 
totally  disagree  with  you.  It  would  be  a  most 
disastrous  thing  for  our  people  that  we  should 
refuse  to  meet  them  in  friendly  intercourse. 
The  presence  of  the  clergy  raises  at  once  the 
tone  of  secular  conversation.  And  Christ's  ex- 
ample bears  me  out  in  this ;  for  he  not  only 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  65 

attended  a  marriage- feast,  but  incurred  the  nick- 
name of  a  wine-bibber,  who  ate  and  drank  with 
publicans  and  sinners." 

"Yes,"  returned  my  friend:  "those  are  in- 
stances, no  doubt,  very  few.  and  far  between,  in 
which  Christ  may  be  said  to  have  sanctioned 
some  approach  towards  convivial  life  ;  and  I  am 
bound  to  say  that  you  modern  Christians  have 
made  the  most  of  them.  One  hears  them 
quoted  everywhere.  But  what  took  Christ  to 
Cana  of  Galilee?  Why,  he  went  there  to  per- 
form one  of  the  very  greatest  of  his  mighty 
works,  the  immense  significance  of  which,  in 
connection  with  later  events,  I  need  scarcely 
point  out  to  a  clergyman.  And,  as  for  his 
dining  with  publicans  and  sinners,  do  you  sup- 
pose he  went  among  them  to  enjoy  himself,  or 
to  preach  the  gospel  ?  And  for  which  of  these 
reasons,  may  I  ask,  do  you  parsons  mix  so 
freely  with  the  world  ?  What  single  feature  is 
there  in  common  between  his  alleged  con- 
viviality and  yours?  Is  it  from  his  example 
that  you  borrow  your  half-hours  of  affable 
conversation  about  nothing  whatever ;  your 

6* 


66  Modern  Christianity, 

friendly  intercourse,  wherein  the  chances  of 
doing  good  are  as  one  to  twenty,  and  the 
chances  of  talking  a  vicious  amount  of  non- 
sense are  as  twenty  to  one ;  your  dinner- 
parties, in  the  midst  of  which  the  priest  is 
pleasantly  supposed  to  stand  up  suddenly,  to 
the  consternation  of  .his  host,  and  rebuke  ex- 
travagance and  self-indulgence  and  frivolous 
words,  but  never  yet  was  known  to  do  any 
thing  of  the  kind ;  your  archery-meetings, 
croquet-tournaments,  five-o'clock  teas,  and  other 
modes  of  innocent  recreation,  which  you  pat- 
ronize with  the  laudable  intent  of  showing  how 
possible  it  is  to  serve  God  and  mammon,  how 
easy  to  combine  the  pleasures  of  this  world 
with  those  of  the  world  to  come  ?  And  then 
you  talk  of  raising  the  tone  of  conversation ! 
Why,  my  good  friend,  you  know  perfectly  well 
that  the  parson  goes  into  society  on  the  very 
same  footing  as  that  on  which  the  layman  goes, 
because  he  is  a  gentleman,  and  it  is  pleasant  to 
meet  him.  If  he  dared  to  reprove  and  exhort, 
or  assume  any  priestly  function,  his  friends 
would  declare  that  he  was  not  a  gentleman,  and 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  67 

would  invite  him  no  more.  His  clerical  duties, 
so  far  as  they  may  be  exercised  at  all,  are 
strictly  limited  to  the  saying  of  grace  before 
and  after  dinner.  And  the  fashion  in  which 
this  ceremony  is  performed  shows  plainly 
enough  the  amount  of  respect  in  which  his  office 
is  held.  He  mutters  some  mysterious  words, 
of  which  nobody  takes  the  slightest  possible 
notice ;  and  there  his  business  ends.  If  he  pre- 
sumed to  keep  the  company  waiting  while  he 
offered  up  a  decently  earnest  prayer,  he  would 
stand  but  little  chance  of  being  asked  to 
say  grace  again.  Try  the  experiment  yourself, 
old  fellow,  when  next  you  go  out  to  dine. 
Speak  up  from  the  fulness  of  your  heart,  as 
you  contemplate  the  bountiful  feast  spread  out 
before  you,  and  thank  Him  in  fitting  language 
to  whom  you  believe  that  thanks  are  due.  No, 
no.  You  dare  not  utter  a  syllable  which  would 
hurt  the  prejudices  of  your  friends.  And  all 
the  while  you  call  yourself  the  minister  of 
Christ ;  of  Christ,  who  was  perpetually  doing  the 
very  thing  which  you  will  not  do,  —  rebuking, 
irritating,  offending,  nay,  positively  insulting, 


68  Modern  Christianity, 

men  with  his  precepts,  if,  by  any  means,  —  by 
gentleness  or  by  severity,  by  love  or  by  fear, 
by  entreaty  or  by  threatening,  —  he  might  drag 
them  away  from  their  deadly,  damning  sins, 
and  win  them  to  himself,  and  make  them  good 
and  pure." 

"And  yet,"  said  I,  "if  you  would  go  some- 
where and  hear  a  course  of  Lenten  sermons,  I 
don't  think  you  would  have  much  cause  to 
complain  of  our  not  speaking  out  with  sufficient 
boldness  and  severity." 

"  Sermons,"  repeated  Curtis,  —  "  oh,  ah !  I 
have  no  fault  to  find  with  them.  Your  preach- 
ing is  plain  enough,  and  your  Sunday  standard 
of  Christian  holiness  all  that  can  be  desired. 
You  can  afford  to  preach  Christ,  partly  because, 
with  the  Bible  in  your  hands,  you  could  scarcely 
do  less ;  and  partly  because,  such  is  your  con- 
firmed unreality,  it  has  come  to  be  generally 
understood  that  the  precepts  of  pulpit  oratory 
are  to  be  very  cautiously  applied.  You  preach 
Christ,  and  then  you  have  done  with  him. 
When  you  meet  your  flock  on  week-days,  you 
meet  them  as  other  men.  You  are  just  as 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  69 

proud  as  other  men,  if  you  happen  to  be  second 
cousin  to  an  honorable,  or  on  terms  of  intimacy 
with  a  lord.  You  are  just  as  fond  of  your 
dinner  as  other  men,  and  make  quite  as  much 
fuss  if  the  mutton  is  under-done.  You  are 
every  whit  as  irritable  as  other  men,  and  take 
offence  as  readily,  if  any  one.  insults  you.  I 
have  known  dignitaries  of  the  Church  cut  a 
man  dead  for  six  months,  because  he  had 
offered  them  some  trumpery  affront.  Christ,  I 
am  inclined  to  fancy,  would  have  met  one  who 
had  done  him  an  injury,  with  a  kindlier  greeting 
than  before." 

"  My  good  friend,"  interrupted  I,  fast  losing 
my  temper  at  the  man's  absurd  Utopianism, 
"you  cannot  expect  impossibilities.  We  -par- 
sons don't  set  up  for  angels.  We  are  men  of 
like  passions  with  yourselves.  All  that  we  can 
pretend  to  do  is  to  behave  like  Christian  gen- 
tlemen, and  set  a  good  example  to  the  world." 

"  What  example  ?  " 

"  The  example  of  Christ." 

"  Just  so.  And  Christ  does  not  begin  to  be- 
come Christ  in  your  hands  at  all,  until  you  have 


70  Modern  Christianity, 

lifted  him  far  above  the  region  of  gentlemanly 
behavior,  and  brought  him  to  the  point  where 
he  is  a  positive  nuisance  to  the  natural  man. 
You  cannot  be  setting  the  example  of  Christ, 
while  men  speak  well  of  you,  and  seek  your 
company,  and  find  your  tone  and  habits  very 
much  like  their  own.  The  squire,  the  soldier, 
the  good-natured,  agreeable  fellow  whose  wine 
you  drink  and  at  whose  jokes  you  laugh, — 
these  men,  unless  you  have  already  done  your 
work  upon  them,  and  humbled  them  at  the  feet 
of  Christ,  ought  to  feel  your  presence  an  in- 
tolerable restraint,  and  toss  their  heads  im- 
patiently at  the  very  sound  of  your  name.  You 
ought  to  be  besieging  them,  worrying  them, 
literally  boring  them,  with  the  vehemence  of 
your  entreaties  that  they  will  come  out  from  the 
plague  and  pestilence,  and  save  their  souls  from 
hell.  But  no.  It  is  more  gentlemanly  to  let 
them  linger  in  their  sin,  and  die.  And  haven't 
you  the  wit  to  perceive,  my  dear  old  friend, 
that,  to  whatever  extent  you  abstain  from  open 
war  against  the  vice  and  slothfulness  of  every 
man  you  meet,  to  precisely  the  same  extent  you 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  71 

are  a  mere  excrescence  on  society  ?  Unless  you 
are  making  worldly  men  and  women  hate  you 
just  as  they  hated  Christ,  you  are  simply  a 
superfluous  body  of  men.  Civilization  does  not 
want  you.  The  laws  by  which  she  keeps  bru- 
tality in  check,  and  brings  the  drunkard  and  the 
murderer  to  justice,  were  framed  without  you. 
She  has  police  to  clear  her  streets,  and  magis- 
trates to  convict  the  vagabond  and  the  rogue, 
and  a  keen  sense  of  the  honorable  and  the  up- 
right to  regulate  her  intercourse  between  man 
and  man  "  — 

"  Which  she  borrowed  from  Christianity." 

"  Which  she  borrowed  from  nothing  of  the 
kind ;  which  belongs  to  her,  on  the  contrary, 
as  a  matter  of  decent  human  feeling,  and  with- 
out which  a  man  becomes  a  savage  and  a  beast." 

"  It  did  not  belong  to  the  Greeks  and  Romans 
before  Christ  came." 

"  I  defy  you  to  prove  it.  All  our  relics  of 
classical  antiquity  tell  a  different  tale.  We  have 
but  left  the  Athenian  behind  in  manufactures 
and  money-making,  just  as  he  had  left  the 
Israelite  behind  in  literature  and  the  arts  of  war. 


72  Modern  Christianity, 

From  the  Queen  of  Sheba  to  Queen  Victoria, 
from  Solomon  to  Mr.  Robert  Lowe,  the  course 
of  this  world  has  developed  a  steady  progress 
in  civilization,  with  which  progress  Christianity 
—  I  mean  not  Christian  philosophy,  but  the 
Christianity  of  Christ  —  has  had  nothing  what- 
ever to  do.  Will  you  presume  to  tell  me  that 
our  last-acquired  colony  is  civilized  because  the 
missionary  landed  there  and  spoke  of  Christ, 
and  not  because  merchants  sent  a  cargo  there, 
and  opened  to  the  inhabitants  the  resources  of  a 
flourishing  trade  ?  " 

" Look  here,  old  fellow,"  interrupted  I,  "I 
won't  sit  still  and  hear  you  abusing  missionaries." 

"  I  am  not  abusing  missionaries.  You  per- 
sist in  misinterpreting  me.  Heathen  as  I  am,  I 
could  kiss  the  feet  of  any  man  who  leaves  home 
and  friends,  and  the  softnesses  of  life,  and  takes 
the  cross  in  his  hand,  and  becomes  Christ  to  the 
poor  and  needy,  whether  in  Polynesia,  or  Shore- 
ditch,  or  Bermondsey.  But  I  won't  admit  that 
missionary  work  has  civilized  the  world.  My 
dear  fellow,  where  have  your  clergy  worked 
the  harder, — in  Whitechapel,  or  in  Grosvenor 
Square  ?  " 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  73 

"In  Whitechapel,  I  should  suppose." 
"And  which  place  is  the  more  civilized  of  the 
two  ?  Why,  if  Christianity  has  any  thing  to  do 
with  Christ  at  all,  civilization  must  ever  be  its 
deadliest  foe.  The  two  forces  labor  in  totally 
different  fields.  Christianity  wins  souls  for 
heaven:  civilization  wins  prosperity  for  men  on 
earth.  Christianity  works  for  the  glory  of  God : 
civilization  does  not  pretend  to  take  any  such 
object  into  account,  but  simply  works  for  the 
glorification  of  human  talent,  and  the  success 
of  human  enterprise.  Instead  of  marching 
hand  in  hand,  as  the  cant  of  the  day  would 
represent,  they  ought  to  be  fighting  tooth  and 
nail;  and  the  fact  that  they  have  ceased  to 
fight  proves  that  one  or  the  other  of  them  has 
given  in.  I  had  the  curiosity,  not  long  ago,  to 
attend  one  of  your  monster  festivals  of  the 
Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel,  at 
which  some  learned  bishop  was  the  appointed 
preacher.  '  Think,  my  brethren,'  said  the 
excellent  man,  —  '  think  how  the  words  of  our 
Master  have  been  fulfilled!  See  how,  in  every 
corner  of  the  globe,  on  the  boundless  continent, 
i 


74  Modern  Christianity, 

and  among  the  islands  of  the  mighty  ocean,  the 
Christian  Church  has  made  its  way !  To  all  the 
nations  of  the  earth  the  glad  tidings  have  gone 
forth;  and  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  and  America 
have  owned  the  dominion  of  Christ.'  I  thought 
I  had  never  heard  such  a  piece  of  cool  imperti- 
nence in  all  my  life.  Why,  it  is  the  English 
merchantman,  and  not  the  missionary,  that  has 
subdued  the  nations  of  the  earth.  The  mission- 
ary —  all  honor  to  him !  —  has  made  a  handful  of 
converts  at  Graham's  Town  or  Madagascar,  just 
as  he  has  made  a  handful  at  Haggerstone  or  the 
London  Docks ;  but  the  reason  why  vast  con- 
tinents and  colonies  profess  the  British  faith  is 
because  they  are  under  the  government  of  the 
British  crown.  Your  modern  Christianity  has 
denied  Christ,  repudiated  as  obsolete  more  than 
half  his  distinctive  teaching,  declared  his  exam- 
ple to  be  antiquated  and  unsuited  to  modern 
times,  grown  ashamed  of  his  social  rank,  and 
calmly  assumed,  without  one  scrap  of  authority, 
that  his  weary,  drooping,  threadbare  figure  is 
fitly  represented  by  the  well-fed  rector,  the 
pompous,  self-important  dignitary,  and  the 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  75 

croquet-playing,  dog-cart-driving  curate,  of  a 
polished  generation,  — your  Church,  I  say,  has 
done  all  this ;  and  then  it  has  the  unblushing 
impudence  to  claim  the  spread  of  civilization, 
and  the  triumphs  of  man's  industry  and  genius, 
as  the  fruits  of  its  own  labor  in  Christ's 
name !  " 

"  Of  course  they  are  the  fruits  of  its  own 
labor.  Christianity  has  left  its  mark  over  all  the 
world.  Every  art,  every  science,  every  social 
pursuit  of  man,  has  become  impregnated  with 
it ;  and  it  is  simply  foolish  to  take  your  stand 
outside  the  system,  as  if  you  were  indebted  to 
it  for  nothing.  You  cannot  so  much  as  date  a 
letter,  without  tacitly  admitting  your  belief  in 
the  birth  of  Christ." 

"  Quite  so.  And  I  may  just  as  well  say  that 
you  cannot  look  up  at  the  stars,  without  tacitly 
admitting  your  belief  in  Mars  and  Venus ;  or 
that  you  cannot  name  the  days  of  the  week, 
without  tacitly  acknowledging  a  host  of  Saxon 
deities.  No  doubt,  Christianity  has  left  its  mark 
over  all  the  world;  and  so  has  heathenism. 
There  never  was  a  philosophy  yet,  which  did 


76  Modern  Christianity^ 

not  leave  its  mark;  and  the  teaching  of  Christ, 
the  best  of  all  philosophies,  has  left  more  per- 
manent marks  than  any.  No  educated  heathen 
would  hesitate  to  confess  how  much  society 
owes  to  the  civilizing  effects  of  Christianity. 
But  you  will  not  have  it  so.  You  say  that 
Christ  was  not  a  civilizer.  You  say  that  he  was 
God ;  and  that,  so  far  from  coming  to  make 
this  world  pleasant  and  polite,  he  came  to 
demonstrate  the  utter  worthlessness  of  all  things 
therein ;  that,  so  far  from  ministering  to  human 
progress,  he  taught  that  the  more  men  learn, 
and  the  more  they  labor,  and  the  more  they 
get,  the  farther  do  they  go  astray  from  him,  and 
the  weaker  does  their  hope  become  of  everlast- 
ing life  hereafter.  This  is  your  doctrine ;  and 
I  say  that,  having  chosen  it,  you  ought  to  abide 
by  it.  My  complaint  against  you  is,  that  you 
only  use  it  when  it  happens  to  be  convenient, 
and  at  all  ©ther  times  are  content  to  put  up 
with  heathenism.  When  you  are  preaching  a 
sermon,  or  saying  your  prayers,  or  talking  about 
missionary  work,  or  '  shutting  up '  a  sceptic,  you 
take  the  loftiest  possible  ground,  and  discourse 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  77 

of  miracles,  and  spiritual  agencies,  and  the 
marvellous  death  and  resurrection  of  Christ,  and 
the  eternal  joys  of  heaven,  or  flames  of  hell ; 
but  when  we  turn  your  own  words  upon  you, 
and  suggest  that  such  extraordinary  beliefs 
involve  extraordinary  lives,  you  back  out  of 
your  Christianity  at  once,  as  regards  its  super- 
natural features,  and  stand  upon  it  only  as  upon 
a  very  good  philosophy;  which  is  what  we 
admitted  it  to  be  all  along.  We  heathen  are 
content  to  be  honest  and  truthful  and  kind  and 
courteous  and  moral.  You  Christians  come  to 
us,  and  say  that  this  is  not  enough,  but  that,  in 
addition  to  all  this,  we  must  follow  Christ.  We 
strongly  object  to  follow  him,  because  we  are 
not  prepared  to  renounce  this  agreeable  world, 
and  to  be  hated  and  laughed  at  for  our  eccentri- 
cities, as  he  was:  so  we  decline.  Whereupon, 
you  call  us  unbelievers  and  atheists,  and  all 
sorts  of  names ;  while  you  yourselves  object  to 
follow  Christ  precisely  as  much  as  we  do,  and 
from  precisely  the  same  cause.  I  call  this  dis- 
honest and  illogical.  Having  made  choice  of  an 
unearthly  Guide,  you  should  be  content  to  follow 

7* 


78  Modern  Christianity, 

him  along  unearthly  paths;  and  if,  in  following 
him,  you  find  yourselves  committed  to  a  life 
which  ordinary  people  regard  as  the  life  of  a 
lunatic,  you  should  put  up  with  the  inconven- 
ience of  being  considered  lunatics  so  long  as 
you  continue  in  this  lower  world,  and  look  for- 
ward to  getting  credit  for  being  in  your  right 
senses  when  you  reach  a  better  world  above. 
But  this  does  not  suit  you.  You  claim  the  priv- 
ilege of  doing  exactly  as  we  do  all  the  week, 
and  keep  your  mystical  beliefs  to  hurl  at  our 
heads  on  Sunday." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  answered  I,  "your  argu- 
ment comes  round  and  round  to  the  same  thing 
again  and  again,  and  simply  amounts  to  this,  — 
that  the  Christian,  like  any  other  man,  is  of 
necessity  inconsistent." 

" Pardon  me,"  replied  he :  "inconsistency  has 
nothing  to  do  with  the  matter.  Inconsistency 
implies  that  a  man  makes  some  sort  of  effort  to 
do  what  he  thinks  right,  and  fails,  and  tries 
again.  My  point  is,  that  you  make,  and  profess 
to  make,  no  effort  of  any  kind.  I  should  call 
it  an  inconsistency,  if,  having  admitted  that  the 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  79 

imitation  of  Christ  forbade  your  -enjoyment  of 
earthly  pleasures,  you  were  seen,  once  in  a  way, 
at  Newmarket  or  Evans's.  But  I  cannot  call  it 
an  inconsistency  that  there  should  be  nothing 
whatever  in  your  present  religious  code  to 
prevent,  let  us  say,  the  Christian,  the  man  who 
denies  that  Christ  ever  lived,  and  the  man  who 
never  by  any  chance  offers  up  a  -prayer,  from 
being  associated  together  on  equal  terms  in 
business,  in  pleasure,  in  every  conceivable  rela- 
tion of  life,  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  it  simply 
impossible,  unless  you  watch  their  pursuits  on 
Sunday,  to  tell  which  is  which.  I  cannot  call 
it  an  inconsistency  that  all  Christian  England 
should  wink  at  idolatry,  the  distinctive  sin  of 
ancient  heathenism,  and  the  greatest  of  all 
abominations  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  should 
systematically  teach  young  boys  a  mass  of  lies 
and  folly  about  gods  and  goddesses  who  never 
lived,  because  the  Alcestis  or  the  Iliad  is  better 
Greek  than  Chrysostom  on  St.  Matthew.  I 
cannot  call  it  an  inconsistency  that  Christian 
sculptors  should  not  care  two  straws,  so  long  as 
they  can  get  an  order,  whether  they  set  to  work 


8o  Modern  Christianity, 

upon  an  infant  Bacchus  or  an  infant  Christ.  I 
call  these  things  deliberate  abandonments  of 
principle ;  and  they  are  beautifully  characteristic 
of  your  entire  modern  Christianity.  If  you 
really  believed  a  whole  roomful  of  worldly- 
minded  people  to  be  threatened  with  unquench- 
able fire,  it  would  be  impossible  for  you  to  help 
betraying  your  belief;  for  you  could  never  open 
your  mouth  to  speak  to  them  on  any  other 
subject  than  the  frightful  peril  in  which  they 
lay.  And,  if  you  really  believed  in  Christ  as 
any  thing  better  than  a  wise  instructor,  you 
would  burn  every  mythological  book,  and  break 
in  pieces  every  mythological  statue,  and  call 
your  glorious  stars,  which  speak  to  you  so  elo- 
quently of  the  great  Creator's  power,  by  some 
better  names  than  the  names  of  fabulous  absur- 
dities, whose  very  remembrance  is  an  insult  to 
the  majesty  of  God." 

"  Really,  Curtis,"  said  I,  "  you  talk  like  some 
old  woman." 

"  Nay,"  answered  he,  "  these  sentiments  are 
none  of  mine.  /  don't  talk  like  an  old  woman. 
But  you  ought  to  talk  like  one ;  and  because 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  81 

you  are  ashamed  to  be  heard  talking  like  one, 
and  dread,  above  all  things,  that  the  world 
should  taunt  you  with  old  womanish  ideas,  you 
have  dropped  out  of  your  theology  whatever 
grates  against  common-sense,  and  appear  in- 
offensively before  society  as  a  civilized  heathen. 
What  I  cannot  get  you  to  understand  is,  that 
in  so  doing,  in  this  futile  attempt  of  yours 
to  represent  as  manly  and  muscular  a  system 
which  is  essentially  meek  and  mild,  you  have 
abandoned  the  distinctive  principle  of  your 
faith,  and  given  up  the  whole  point  between 
the  world  and  Christ,  and  have  turned  a  king- 
dom of  mysteries  into  a  school  of  morals ;  in 
which  school,  you  clergy,  having  abjured  the 
peculiarities  of  your  weary,  sorrow-stricken 
Master,  have  become  the  mere  professors  of  a 
good  and  sound  philosophy,  —  the  philosophy 
of  common-sense  in  business,  and  gentlemanly 
conduct  in  society ;  but  I  don't  know  that  we 
particularly  need  your  services,  because  any 
intelligent,  honorable  layman  can  teach  such  a 
philosophy  equally  well.  A  national  church  is 
a  very  expensive  article ;  and  unless  you  have 


82  Modern  Christianity, 

something  better  to  tell  us  than  we  can  learn 
any  day  at  luncheon,  from  the  lawyer  or  the 
squire,  it  is  high  time  that  you  should  retire 
from  clerical  life,  and  earn  your  bread  else- 
where. Men  are  pleased  to  call  you  Reverend  ; 
but,  if  such  a  title  belongs  to  any  profession  on 
this  earth,  it  belongs  not  to  the  parson,  but  to 
the  doctor.  He  it  is,  who,  in  some  degree  at 
least,  is  making  himself  Christ  to  the  suffering 
and  the  sorrowing  among  mankind.  He  it  is 
who  turns  out  of  his  bed  at  midnight  to  cool 
the  poor  man's  burning ,  lips,  or  succor  a 
woman  with  the  tenderest  efforts  of  his  skill, 
who  can  never  pay  him  sixpence  for  his  trouble, 
whether  her  infant  lives  or  dies." 

"  I  am  sure  I  hope  that  I  should  go  and  visit 
any  one  who  sent  for  me,  just  as  readily  as  the 
doctor  does." 

"  I  have  not  a  doubt  of  it ;  only,  what  you 
would  do  cheerfully  enough  once  in  a  way,  he 
does  as  a  matter  of  business  all  day  long.  Your 
work  is  baby's  play  compared  with  his ;  and  I 
really  don't  fcnpw  what  class  of  society  would 
be  very  much  the  worse,  if  the  entire  fifteen  or 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  83 

twenty  thousand  of  you  were  swept  off  the 
face  of  the  earth  to-morrow.  We  don't  want 
you,  my  friend,  indeed,  we  don't,  if  you  are 
only  going  to  help  us,  in  some  infinitesimal 
degree,  to  become  more  civilized  and  polite 
and  human.  Be  Christ  to  us,  and  at  any  rate 
we  shall  understand  you.  We  may  laugh  at 
you,  and  call  you  enthusiasts,  and  decline  to 
become  sharers  of  your  unattractive  life ;  but 
we  shall  reject  your  teaching  at  our  own  risk : 
the  consequences,  if  consequences  there  be,  will 
fall  upon  ourselves;  and,  at  the  very  least, 
we  shall  understand  you.  We  cannot  under- 
stand you  now.  We  have  not  the  faintest  no- 
tion what  it  is  that  you  want  us  to  do.  Your 
sermons  tell  us  of  one  sort  of  Christ,  and  your 
conversation  of  another.  In  your  gospel  we 
see  a  Christ  bruised,  and  covered  with  reproach, 
and  laughed  to  scorn  :  in  your  daily  life  we  see 
a  Christ  who  has  grown  ashamed  of  his  poverty 
and  low  estate,  has  cast  off  the  garb  of  the  Man 
of  sorrows,  and  has  become  a  courteous  gentle- 
man, or  a  shrewd  business-like  man  of  the 
world.  And,  because  we  see  these  things,  we 


84  Modern  Christianity, 

don't  believe  in  any  Christ  at  all.  You  are 
fond  of  preaching  about  the  spirit  of  modern 
infidelity,  and  love  to  flatter  yourselves  that 
some  half  a  dozen  rationalistic  Germans  are  re- 
sponsible for  all  the  scepticism  of  the  day.  Let 
me  tell  you  that  the  un-Christ-like  priest  is  the 
truest  source  of  infidelity.  The  free  discussion 
of  theological  difficulties  could  shake  no  one's 
faith,  if  the  witness  of  the  clergy  to  the  truth 
of  their  own  gospel  were  such  as  any  reasonable 
man  could  entertain.  Why  should  I  believe, 
when,  as  far  as  my  powers  of  penetration  are 
able  to  assist  me,  I  can  see  that  you  yourselves 
are  only  half  persuaded  to  be  Christians  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid,  my  dear  fellow,"  answered  I, 
"  that  such  an  excuse  will  not  help  you.  God 
will  call  you  to  account  for  your  unbelief, 
whether  we  preach  faithfully  or  no.  You  have 
your  Bible  "  — 

"  The  Bible  is  of  no  use  without  an  inter- 
preter. If  a  Bible  could  be  picked  up  some- 
where among  the  '  islands  of  the  mighty  ocean,' 
do  you  suppose  that  the  poor  benighted  heather, 
would  understand  a  word  of  it?  The  Bible 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  85 

lays  down  injunctions  which  no  Christian  man 
or  woman  of  my  acquaintance  pretends  to  fulfil ; 
and,  when  I  ask  for  an  explanation  of  such  a 
peculiar  fact,  you  mystify  me  to  that  extent 
that  I  don't  know  where  I  am.  You  tell  me 
that  one-half,  at  least,  of  the  express  commands 
of  Christ  were  not  intended  to  be  literally 
obeyed ;  and  that  when  he  said  to  one  who 
would  devote  himself  to  his  service,  '  Sell  that 
thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  take  up 
thy  cross  and  follow  me,'  he  meant  to  say,  '  Buy 
through  some  clerical  agent  the  advowson  of 
a  fat  rectory  within  an  easy  distance  of  town, 
look  out  for  some  nice  young  lady  with  a  little 
money  of  her  own,  and  make  yourself  thorough- 
ly comfortable.1 ' 

"  Stay,"  said  I,  "  you  have  hit  upon  an  ac- 
knowledged abuse.  Most  of  us  condemn  traffic 
in  church-patronage  as  a  scandal." 

"  Then,  why  don't  your  bishops  dare  to  set 
to  work  and  stop  it  ?  Why  don't  they  boldly 
refuse  to  institute  any  man  who  has  bought 
himself  a  living,  and  take  the  consequences  ? 
It  would  not  do,  would  it  ?  Why,  they  would 


86  Modern  Christianity, 

gain  at  once  the  character  of  cantankerous, 
unsafe  men,  and  lose  their  chance  of  that  golden 
prize  of  vapid,  stagnant  moderation,  —  the  see 
of  C ." 

"  I  had  hoped,  my  dear  Curtis,  that  you 
were  too  generous-hearted  to  impute  unworthy 
motives,  even  to  an  adversary." 

"  Then,  I  beg  to  retract  my  words ;  and  I  take 
refuge  in  the  only  alternative  left  to  me.  Since 
your  stern,  single-minded  prelates  witness  per- 
petually the  transactions  of  which  I  speak,  and 
do  not  interfere  with  them,  I  will  assume  that 
they  see  little  in  them  to  disapprove ;  that  they 
have  tacitly  accepted  the  modern  Christian 
theory,  that  the  priesthood  is  a  mere  secular 
profession,  in  which  a  capitalist  may  invest  his 
money,  and  look  for  profitable  returns ;  and  that 
the  priest  is  a  doctor  of  morals,  just  as  other 
men  are  doctors  of  physic  or  of  law." 

"  Perhaps,"  answered  I,  "  our  bishops  think 
the  practice  a  necessary  evil ;  and,  really,  I  do 
not  see  how  it  can  be  avoided.  It  makes  very 
little  difference,  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  whether 
a  man  gets  his  father  to  buy  him  a  living,  or 
asks  his  friend  to  give  him  one." 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  87 

"  Very  little  difference  indeed.  The  whole 
system  under  which  rectories  and  canonries 
are  treated  as  comfortable  sources  of  income  is 
purely  and  exclusively  heathen." 

"  And  yet  our  Lord  himself  allows  that  the 
laborer  is  worthy  of  his  hire." 

"  Of  how  much  hire  ?  Why,  of  that  amount 
exactly  which  is  needful  for  his  support  while 
laboring,  and  of  nothing  further.  Here  is 
another  of  the  texts  which  you  perpetually  have 
the  impudence  to  misquote,  as  an  apology  for 
clerical  self-indulgence.  It  so  happens  that  the 
words  tell  expressly  against  you.  Christ  was 
bidding  his  ministers  go  forth  without  purse  or 
scrip  or  shoes,  in  a  state  of  such  utter  poverty, 
that  they  were  forced  to  live  on  the  hospitality 
of  their  converts ;  .and  this,  the  bare  food  and 
lodging  offered  them,  is  what  he  permits  them 
to  accept  as  their  legitimate  reward.  My  dear 
friend,  so  long  as  you  parsons  twist  about  the 
words  of  Scripture  after  such  a  fashion  as  this, 
you  can  hardly  wonder  that  a  heathen  like 
myself  should  decline  to  receive  the  Bible  as 
a  trustworthy  witness  of  God." 


88  Modern  Christianity, 

"  But  there  are  other  witnesses.  Does  not 
your  own  conscience  tell  you,  every  time  you 
do  any  thing  wrong,  that  there  is  a  God  who 
will  sooner  or  later  punish  you  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not  Your  conscience  tells  you 
so,  probably  enough,  because  you  have  drunk 
in  the  belief  with  every  breath  of  childhood, 
and  learned  it  by  heart  upon  your  mother's  lap. 
You  are  making  some  slight  confusion,  my 
friend,  between  conscience  and  deeply-rooted 
prejudice.  I  thoroughly  believe  in  Nemesis,  if 
that  is  what  you  mean.  If  I  take  too  much 
sherry  at  night,  I  shall  have  a  headache  in  the 
morning;  and  if  I  play  a  mean  trick  upon  my 
neighbor,  or  cheat  at  cards,  I  shall  have  the 
satisfaction  of  remembering,  for  the  rest  of  my 
life,  that  I  have  acted  like  a  blackguard.  All 
heathen  believe  in  Nemesis,  and  some  of  them 
have  canonized  her  as  a  deity;  but  such  a 
belief  has  not  much  in  common  with  your  idea 
of  God." 

"  Who  do  you  suppose  made  the  world  ?  "  I 
inquired,  flattering  myself  that  I  had  puzzled 
him  at  last. 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  89 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  answered  he.  "I 
should  imagine  that  it  came  into  existence  by 
some  mysterious  law  of  generation,  just  as  I 
came  into  existence  myself.  I  am  not  bound  to 
believe  that  the  hands  of  any  personal  creator 
fashioned  it,  any  more  than  I  believe  that  the 
hands  of  any  personal  creator  fashioned  me." 

"  Then  you  really  think  it  more  reasonable  to 
suppose  that  the  sun  and  moon  and  stars  got 
into  their  appointed  places  by  chance,  than  that 
they  were  created,  and  are  continually  kept  in 
check,  by  some  almighty  power  ?  " 

"  I  don't  say  that  they  came  by  chance.  I 
presume  that  they  were  developed  out  of  mat- 
ter; and  matter,  like  the  principle  of  genera- 
tion, is,  of  course,  eternal." 

"How  can  matter  be  eternal?  Somebody 
must  have  made  it." 

"  And  how  can  somebody  be  eternal  ?  Some- 
body else  must  have  made  him.  My  dear  fellow, 
there  are  heaps  of  marvellous  things  in  nature, 
which  must  needs  be  accepted,  whether  we  will 
or  no;  but  this  much  is  certain,  that,  if  you 
come  to  talk  of  reason,  the  most  unreasonable 

8» 


90  Modern  Christianity, 

belief  of  all  is,  that  the  world  we  see  around  us 
is  the  work  of  a  personal  and  living  God.  Nay, 
it  is  precisely  twice  as  difficult  to  believe  that 
God  made  Nature,  as  to  believe  that  Nature 
made  herself:  because,  if  Nature  be  final  and 
supreme,  you  have  one  great  mystery  to  perplex 
you;  but  if  God  made  Nature  out  of  nothing, 
when  you  have  duly  contemplated  an  effort  so 
extraordinary,  you  must  face  the  further  prob- 
lem, whence  came  God.  The  orthodox  argu- 
ment on  this  point  is  peculiar.  You  are 
forbidden  to  suppose,  as  a  thing  supremely 
ridiculous,  that  Nature  herself  is  eternal,  because 
so  wonderful  a  piece  of  mechanism  as  the  uni- 
verse bears  the  manifest  impress  of  an  almighty 
hand.  And  yet  you  are  not  only  permitted  to 
hold,  but  are  enjoined  to  believe  steadfastly,  on 
peril  of  damnation  forevermore,  that  the  al- 
mighty hand  itself  bears  no  impress  whatever ; 
that  a  Being  many  thousand  times  more  won- 
derful than  earth  and  sun  and  stars,  inasmuch  as 
he  created  them  by  the  breath  of  his  mouth, 
never  had  any  beginning  at  all.  Why  it  should 
be  irrational  to  believe  in  the  eternity  of  a 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  91 

substance,  and  not  irrational  to  believe  in  the 
eternity  of  a  person,  one  does  not  precisely 
understand.  Give  me  some  decently  plausible 
evidence,  and  I  will  do  my  best  to  become 
convinced;  but  you  can  hardly  expect  me  to 
believe  in  a  God  whom  nobody  has  ever  seen, 
who  lives  nobody  can  tell  where,  and  is  doing 
nobody  knows  what,  simply  because  you  show 
me  the  sun  in  heaven,  and  ask  me  how  it  got 
there.  God  himself  has  never  asked  any  man 
to  believe  on  evidence  so  absurd.  Admitting 
your  Bible  to  be  true,  I  find  him  indeed  appeal- 
ing to  the  works  of  his  creation  as  tokens  of  his 
power,  but  only  doing  so  when  he  would  con- 
firm the  wavering  faith  of  those  who  already,  in 
some  degree,  acknowledged  him.  It  is  one 
thing  for  a  Christian  or  a  Jew  to  worship  with 
increased  fervor  when  he  contemplates  the 
works  of  God :  it  is  quite  another  thing  for  a 
heathen  to  evolve  for  himself  the  conception  of 
a  creator,  because  he  does  not  know  how  else 
creation  came.  That  witness  of  himself  which 
God  offered  to  the  nations,  when  he  sent  them 
fruitful  seasons,  filling  their  hearts  with  food  and 


92  Modern  Christianity^ 

gladness,  —  this,,  as  St.  Paul  confesses,  was  so 
palpably  insufficient,  that  it  became  necessary 
to  adopt  some  other  way.  So  far,  indeed,  from 
expecting  man  to  find  him  out  by  observing  the 
ordinary  course  of  Nature,  the  Almighty  took 
special  care,  whenever  he  desired  to  make  him- 
self known,  to  upset  the  ordinary  course  of 
Nature,  and  work  a  miracle.  From  the  burning 
bush  and  the  plagues  of  Egypt,  down  to  the 
draught  of  fishes  a  hundred  and  fifty  and  three, 
your  Bible  is  a  continuous  record  of  events 
wherein  God  proved  himself  to  be  divine,  by 
superseding  the  operations  of  the  visible  world. 
Such  testimony  could  not  fail  to  convince  all 
but  the  wilfully  obstinate  and  rebellious ;  and  I, 
not  being  obstinate  or  rebellious,  shall  be  only 
too  happy  to  own  myself  convinced,  if  I  may 
be  shown  such  testimony  now." 

"  Such  testimony  cannot  be  shown  now.  The 
age  of  miracles  is  passed." 

"  Excuse  me,"  replied  Curtis,  "  if  I  say  that 
that  sounds  very  suspiciously  like  a  shuffle.  If 
miracles  are  the  accepted  evidence  of  God's 
power,  they  must  needs  be  repeated  whenever 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  93 

God's  power  is  called  in  question.  And  it  is 
called  in  question  at  the  present  day.  f  There 
never  was  a  time,'  according  to  your  favorite 
burst  of  pulpit  eloquence,  '  when  infidelity 
made  such  rapid  strides.'  Well,  then,  show  us 
wicked  infidels  a  miracle.  Let  us  see  Nebu- 
chadnezzar turned  into  an  ox,  or  hear  a  dumb 
animal  talking  to  its  rider,  or  " 

"  My  dear  fellow,  I  tell  you  that  the  Almighty 
does  not  see  fit  to  work  miracles  now." 

"  And  why  ?  Because  people  are  a  little  too 
sharp  to  be  taken  in  by  them  ?  Because  the 
special  correspondent  or  'the  policeman  would 
be  one  too  many  on  the  scene  ?  My  good 
friend,  it  is  of  the  very  essence  of  a  miracle,  as 
evidence,  that  men  should  see  it.  It  is  of  no 
use  second-hand.  A  miracle  that  you  hear  of, 
but  did  not  see,  becomes  at  once  a  myth.  Your 
scripture  stories  about  Joshua's  sun  and  moon, 
or  the  passage  of  the  Israelites  through  the 
water,  are  in  themselves  not  one  atom  less  ridi- 
culous to  posterity  than  the  classical  fables 
about  Zeus  and  Aphrodite.  Let  those  who  saw 
them  believe  in  them.  You  clever  Christian 


94  Modern  Christianity, 

folk  must  take  us  heathen  for  a  pack  of  fools. 
You  tell  us  of  some  outrageously  incredible 
events,  which  took  place  at  a  highly  convenient 
distance  off,  in  the  very  backwoods  of  history, 
and  under  circumstances  which  it  is  simply  im- 
possible to  investigate ;  and  when  we  modestly 
shake  our  heads,  and  ask  for  a  repetition  of  the 
marvel,  you  coolly  dismiss  us  with  the  answer, 
that,  in  this  enlightened  age,  a  miracle  could  not 
be  performed." 

"  A  miracle  could  be  performed  easily  enough, 
if  God  willed  it.  But  such  a  method  of  proof  has 
become  unnecessary  :  God  has  revealed  himself 
in  these  last  days  by  his  Son." 

"  Precisely  so.  Now  we  shall  understand  each 
other.  He  has  revealed  himself  by  his  Son. 
Nature,  as  a  primary  instructor,  tells  me  nothing 
about  God  whatever.  Forced,  in  any  case,  to 
accept  the  world  around  me  as  a  mystery,  I  find 
the  supposition  that  creation  made  itself  to  be 
the  least  unfathomable  mystery  of  all.  The 
Bible,  as  a  primary  instructor,  tells  me  nothing 
about  God  whatever.  For  all  I  know,  its  chron- 
icles may  be  Hebrew  myths,  its  prophecies  writ- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  95 

ten  to  order,  ex  post  facto,  by  some  clever  Jew, 
and  its  New  Testament  the  code  of  morals  of  an 
elaborate  and  impudent  superstition.  Let  those 
for  whom  such  evidence  was  produced  accept  it, 
if  they  please ;  for  myself,  it  is  Christ,  and 
only  Christ,  who  can  tell  me  any  thing  about  God 
which  I  care  to  know.  If  the  age  of  miracles 
has  ceased,  it  must  be  because  the  age  of  per- 
sonal witness  has  begun.  Never  yet  was  man 
asked  to  believe  in  a  supernatural  God,  without 
evidence  supernatural.  This  is  the  evidence 
which  I  demand,  and  which,  look  where  I  will,  I 
cannot  get.  Show  me  Christ,  and  he  shall  be 
my  testimony  about  God.  Why  cannot  you  pro- 
duce him  ?  If  ever  he  came  on  earth,  he  must  be 
here.  If  he  has  gone  away  from  you,  and  left 
his  people  all  alone,  the  age  of  miracles  must 
needs  begin  again,  or  men  will  rightly  disbelieve. 
The  modern  Christian  talks  of  belief  in  God,  as 
if  it  were  the  easiest  thing  on  earth.  Why,  it  is 
the  very  highest  effort  of  the  human  mind.  It 
involves  a  struggle  between  faith  and  reason, 
whose  intensity  can  only  be  measured  by  the 
magnitude  of  the  truths  embraced.  The  unseen 


96  Modern  Christianity, 

and  the  infinite  baffle  me,  bewilder  me,  distract 
me  :  only  by  some  infallible  proof  can  I  be  per- 
suaded of  their  reality.  Such  proof  I  should 
discover  in  the  working  of  a  miracle  before  my 
eyes.  You  tell  me  that  I  cannot  have  such 
proof.  Then  I  will  have  personal  witness.  I 
will  have  that  testimony  by  which  miracles  in 
the  physical  world  were  superseded,  when,  in  the 
spiritual  world  (if  there  be  a  spiritual  world) 
God  proclaimed  a  kingdom  whose  life  and 
progress  should  be  the  mightiest  miracle  of  all, 
—  the  kingdom  of  Christ  in  the  hearts  of  men. 
I  won't  be  put  off  with  a  reference  to  some 
historical  book,  which  may  or  may  not  be  true. 
I  won't  be  put  off  by  being  asked  to  explain 
how  the  trees  yield  their  fruit,  or  the  earth  goes 
round.  The  Bible  may  do  much  to  confirm  my 
faith  when  I  have  once  confessed  it;  and  the 
study  of  Nature  may  kindle  my  gratitude  and 
raise  my  heart  towards  Him  whom  I  have  once 
brought  myself  to  worship  as  the  maker  of  all 
the  worlds.  But,  in  a  matter  of  such  over- 
whelming import,  I  choose,  in  the  first  instance, 
to  have  testimony  which  cannot  be  denied.  If 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  97 

I  am  to  believe  in  Gpd,  it  must  be  because  I  see 
him  in  Christ :  if  I  am  to  believe  in  Christ,  it 
must  be  because  I  see  him  in  Ignatius,  in  Augus- 
tine, in  Bernard  of  Clairvaux;  because  there 
are  men  and  women  living  on  this  earth,  on 
whom  he  has  left  his  mark  so  visibly,  that  it  can- 
not be  mistaken,  —  men  and  women  as  firmly 
persuaded  of  his  death  upon  the  cross,  as  if  their 
own  eyes  had  seen  him  die.  And  what  do  you 
think  must  be  the  life  and  conversation  of  one 
who  has  seen  him  die;  who  knows,  moreover, 
as  your  sermons  teach  us,  that  his  own  sins, 
his  own  wilful  indulgence  of  appetite  or  desire, 
were  the  sins  which  put  his  Saviour  to  death ; 
who  is  conscious,  at  every  moment  of  the  day, 
that  he  himself  is  verily  guilty  of  the  mur- 
der of  his  God  ?  Don't  be  shocked,  dear  fellow, 
if  my  language  is  plain  and  strong.  I  am  but 
showing  you  the  legitimate  issue  of  your  own 
doctrine.  You  gentlemen  like  to  have  the 
theology  all  to  yourselves,  so  that  you  may 
stop  short  whenever  you  approach  dangerous 
ground,  and  refrain  from  pushing  an  awkward 
truth  to  its  natural  conclusion.  Permit  a  simple- 


98  Modern  Christianity, 

minded  layman  to  drive  the  argument  home, 
and  force  you  for  once  to  abide  by  the  results 
of  your  pulpit-teaching.  I  say,  then,  that  every 
Christian  man  or  woman  who  has  ever  sinned 
has  with  his  own  hand  slain  his  God.  If  the 
death  of  Christ  does  not  literally  amount  to  this, 
it  is  a  sentiment,  a  stage-rehearsal,  a  sham.  You 
killed  him,  I  killed  him,  every  light-hearted, 
jovial  English  gentleman  killed  him;  or  else 
his  crucifixion  is  a  myth.  Now,  I  ask  you  to 
tell  me  honestly  whether  your  life,  or  the  life  of 
one  Christian  in  ten  thousand,  is  the  life  of  a 
man  whose  mind  is  burdened  with  such  a  crime. 
Did  you,  or  did  you  not,  crucify  Christ?  " 

"  My  dear  Curtis,  you  put  things  in  such  a 
shocking  way,  that  I  hardly  know  what  answer 
to  give  you." 

"  All  the  same  I  will  trouble  you  to  give  me 
one." 

"  Well,  I  suppose,  if  it  comes  to  that,  I  did 
crucify  him." 

"  And  yet  you  can  sit  there,  and  smoke  your 
pipe,  and  drink  your  soda  and  brandy ;  and  go 
to  bed,  and  sleep  as  calmly  as  a  child ;  and  wake 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  99 

in  the  morning,  and  enjoy  your  life  as  merrily  as 
if  you  had  never  hurt  a  fly." 

"  To  be  sure  I  can.  What  is  the  use  of  mop- 
ing? I  can't  help  having  crucified  Christ;  and 
I  sha'n't  undo  any  harm  that  I  have  done,  by 
making  myself  miserable  and  glum." 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  undoing  harm :  it  is 
a  question  of  manifesting  a  commonly  decent 
sorrow  for  the  commission  of  a  most  atrocious 
deed." 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  you  exaggerate  things 
so  frightfully !  I  cannot  exactly  feel  that  I  am 
personally  responsible  for  the  atrocious  deed. 
It  took  place  by  some  mysterious  dispensation 
of  the  will  of  God." 

"  In  other  words,  it  was  a  theatrical  effect,  a 
dissolving- view,  a  nursery-tale,  '  got  up '  as  an 
appeal  to  your  better  feelings,  in  the  hope  of 
making  your  life  more  moral  and  correct.  Now, 
don't  let  us  have  any  unreality  in  the  matter. 
Is  sin,  or  is  it  not,  truly  and  literally  the  occa- 
sion of  Christ's  death  ?  " 

u  Of  course  it  is." 

"  Then  Christ's  death  is  the  exact  measure  of 


ioo  Modern  Christianity, 

the  guilt  of  sin ;  and  yet  you  can  sin,  and  be 
merry.  Nay,  there  is  something  more  to  be 
said  about  it  than  this.  Pray,  what  is  the  pun- 
ishment of  sin?  " 

"Hell." 

"And  hell  means  everlasting  torment  in 
unquenchable  fire  ?  " 

"Yes,  undoubtedly." 

"  Then  sin  is  not  only  the  measure  of  the 
guilt  incurred  by  Christ's  death,  but  it  is  the 
measure  of  the  sinner's  agony  in  hell;  which 
agony,  you  say,  is  everlasting.  And  yet  you 
can  sin,  and  be  merry.  I  suppose,"  continued 
Curtis,  "that  you  really  do  believe  in  hell." 

"  Certainly  I  do." 

"And  you  think  that  most  people  will  go 
there?" 

"  Indeed  I  do  not  think  any  thing  so  dread- 
ful." 

"  Come  now,  old  fellow,  let  us  have  the  cour- 
age and  the  honesty  to  look  our  difficulties  in 
the  face.  You  have  every  reason  to  believe, 
have  you  not,  from  a  comparison  of  scripture 
and  Christian  teaching  with  the  general  condi- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  101 

tion  of  the  world,  that  only  a  small  proportion 
of  mankind  will  eventually  be  saved?  " 

"  Yes,"  I  answered,  after  some  little  hesita- 
tion: ".I  am  afraid  that  I  am  bound  to  think  so." 

"  Then  will  you  kindly  explain  to  me  how  it 
comes  to  pass  that  you  can  soberly  believe,  and 
eloquently  preach,  that  an  overwhelming  major- 
ity of  your  fellow-creatures  will  be  burnt  alive 
throughout  all  eternity  in  the  flames  of  hell,  and 
yet  can  find  time  or  inclination  at  any  moment 
of  your  life  for  any  other  work  than  the  work 
of  rescuing  the  souls  around  you  from  their 
appalling  doom  ?  " 

"I  never  said  any  thing  about  being  burnt 
alive.  Your  way  of  putting  things,  my  dear 
friend,  is  perfectly  horrible." 

u  I  wish  it  to  be  perfectly  horrible.  Hell,  I 
presume,  is  intended  to  be  perfectly  horrible. 
I  would  speak  of  it  in  words  a  hundred-fold 
more  horrible,  if  only  I  knew  how.  Pray,  if 
the  everlasting  torment,  in  unquenchable  flames, 
of  an  immortal  soul,  does  not  mean  being  burnt 
alive  forever,  what  does  it  mean?  Moreover, 
I  should  imagine  that  you  are  not  quite  certain 

9* 


IO2  Modern  Christianity, 

that  you  will  escape  the  punishment  of  hell 
yourself." 

"  Ah,  no !  "  said  I :    "  indeed  I  am  not." 

"And  you  can  contemplate  even  so  much  as 
the  distant  possibility  of  being  tortured  with 
agonies  insupportable  for  ages  and  ages,  and 
millions  of  ages  more,  and  all  the  while  can 
laugh  and  joke,  and  talk  of  politics  and  business 
and  pleasure,  as  if  you  were  the  happiest  fellow 
on  this  earth !  " 

"  My  dear  Curtis,  I  cannot  always  be  thinking 
about  hell.  I  think  of  it  sometimes,  of  course ; 
and  when  I  do  so  the  contemplation  makes  me 
very  sad." 

"  Very  sad !  I  should  think  it  did.  And  it 
is  only  sometimes,  I  take  it,  that  the  majority  of 
your  brethren  think  of  it ;  for  I  cannot  say  that 
they  strike  me,  on  the  whole,  as  a  particularly 
sad-looking  set  of  men.  Now,  let  us  put  the 
matter  logically  and  fairly.  This  most  frightful 
doctrine  of  an  everlasting  fire  is  literally  true,  or 
literally  false.  There  is  no  intelligible  theory 
between  the  two  extremes.  A  subject  of  such 
gigantic  importance  refuses  to  accommodate  it- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  103 

self  to  the  dimensions  of  a  commonplace  contin- 
gency. You  parsons  do  actually  stand  in  immi- 
nent peril  of  being  burnt  alive  forever,  or  else 
you  do  not.  The  souls  committed  to  your  keep- 
ing, or  a  certain  proportion  of  them,  are  destined 
to  spend  a  whole  eternity  in  torment,  or  they 
are  destined  to  nothing  of  the  kind.  If  they 
are  so  destined,  and  if  you,  unless  by  precept 
and  example  you  have  done  all  in  your  power 
to  save  them,  shall  have  your  part  in  their  unut- 
terable woe,  what  can  you  do  from  morning  to 
night  but  pray  for  them,  and  weep  for  them, 
and  implore  them  earnestly  to  escape  at  any 
cost  from  the  horrors  of  an  unquenchable  flame  ? 
Obviously  there  is  nothing  else  that  you  can  do ; 
and,  if  at  any  instant  you  put  your  hands  to  any 
other  work,  nobody  to  whom  you  preach  will 
suppose  that  you  really  believe  in  the  terrors 
which  you  threaten." 

"I  don't  see  that  at  all,"  answered  I.  "May 
not  a  priest  hold  his  doctrines  fast,  and  yet  for  a 
time  forget  them?  Nay,  may  he  not  even  com- 
mit wilful  sin,  and  all  the  while  be  fully  per- 
suaded that  he  shall  suffer  for  it  at  the  last  ?  " 


IO4  Modern  Christianity, 

"  No  doubt  he  may.  But  I  do  not  happen  to 
be  speaking  of  wilful  sin,  or  weaknesses  of  the 
flesh,  or  inconsistencies  of  conduct  either.  Of 
course,  a  thoroughly  religious  man  may  yield  tp 
temptation  again  and  again,  and  yet  may  have 
a  clear  conviction  that  God's  eye  is  watching 
him,  and  that  God's  law  will  bring  him  to  judg- 
ment. The  Christian  priest,  no  less  than  the 
Christian  layman,  must  be  continually  beset  by 
the  allurements  of  the  world.  This  is  another 
matter  altogether.  Heathen  as  I  am,  I  trust 
that  I  shall  never  so  far  forget  myself  as  to  talk 
to  a  clerical  friend  about  his  private  sins.  I  am 
talking  of  your  visible,  external,  premeditated 
mode  of  life.  My  point  is  this,  —  that  in  the 
face  of  your  alleged  persuasion  that  you  your- 
self and  all  your  flock  are  standing,  for  all  you 
know,  upon  the  very  brink  of  an  everlasting 
hell,  you  have  deliberately  chosen,  and  cheer- 
fully maintain,  a  course  of  occupations,  and  a 
position  in  society,  which  no  man  could  possibly 
endure  for  half  a  day,  who  really  believed  him- 
self and  those  dear  to  him  to  be  placed  in  any 
such  peril.  I  do  not  pretend  that  you  are  lead- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  105 

ing  a  godless  life.  What  I  say  is,  that,  if  you 
are  not  leading  a  downright  ascetic  life,  —  the 
life  of  Christ,  and  nothing  less,  — you  waste 
words  upon  the  air  when  you  preach  the  punish- 
ment of  eternal  flames." 

"It  never  was  intended,"  I  replied,  begin- 
ning to  unwire  the  cork  of  another  bottle  of 
soda-water,  —  "it  never  was  intended  that  I 
should  lead  an  ascetic  life ;  and  I  could  not  do  it 
if  I  tried." 

"  Then  you  must  give  up  your  doctrine.  No 
other  life  has  any  sense  whatever,  when  a  man 
comes  to  talk  about  being  burnt  alive  in  an 
unquenchable  fire.  Do  let  us  strip  these  words 
of  their  conventional  '  unmeaningness,'  let  us 
clear  away  the  'rust  which  the  traditions  of  un- 
thinking ages  have  fastened  on  them,  and  let  us 
think  what  they  really  signify.  To  be  burnt 
alive  in  an  unquenchable  fire, — it  is  literally 
this,  and  worse  than  this,  or  else  it  is  nothing. 
Whether  the  fire  be  spiritual  or  material, 
whether  the  pain  be  mental  or  bodily,  the  idea 
presented  to  the  mind  is  always  the  same.  The 
lost  are  to  dwell  forever  amid  such  excruciating 


106  Modern  Christianity, 

torment,  that  they  shall  curse  the  day  when 
they  came  into  the  world.  Could  you,  could  I, 
could  any  one  of  us,  believing  it  to  be,  let  us 
only  say,  uncertain,  whether  this  horrible  doom 
will  be  our  own  doom  or  not,  take  thought  for 
any  conceivable  thing  besides  ?  What  do  I  care 
whether  I  live  in  a  house,  or  a  cellar;  whether 
my  business  fails,  or  prospers ;  whether  the  world 
goes  on,  or  collapses  altogether  ?  —  what  are  all 
these  things  to  me,  and  what  are  thousands  of 
other  such  things  to  me,  if  this  life  is  to  last  me 
for  thirty,  forty,  fifty  years,  and  then,  unless 
all  my  hours  and  minutes  have  been  given  to 
God,  this  very  body  of  mine  in  which  I  live  and 
move  is  to  be  burnt  forevermore?  These 
things  could  be  absolutely  nothing  to  me.  At 
no  single  instant  could  I  dare  to  relax  my  vigi- 
lance, lest  some  unforeseen  temptation  should 
insnare  me  in  the  toils  of  hell.  The  ascetic  life 
might  cost  me  a  superhuman  struggle  ;  to  weep 
and  pray  incessantly  might  seem  a  hard  and 
cheerless  lot :  but,  if  utter  prostration  of  myself 
before  God  were  the  price  at  which  I  was  to 
escape  being  damned,  .1  would  pay  the  price  un- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  107 

grudgingly  with  the  few  short  years  of  this  pal- 
try life,  and  take  my  reward  hereafter." 

"  But,  my  good  fellow,  you  forget  that  both 
you  and  I  have  certain  duties  to  perform,  with 
which  the  ascetic  life  is  incompatible." 

"  What  duties  ?  If  they  be  such  duties  as  will 
prevent  my  keeping  perpetually  before  me  the 
dread  of  hell,  I  shall  decline  to  attempt  them." 

"  It  unfortunately  happens,"  I  replied,  "  to  be 
your  special  business  not  only  to  attempt  a 
variety  of  secular  duties,  but  satisfactorily  to 
fulfil  them;  and,  what  is  more,  God  will  call 
you  to  account  for  your  negligence  if  you  leave 
them  undone." 

"  Will  he  ?  Then  he  has  bidden  me  do  things 
contradictory  to  one  another:  he  has  reduced 
religion  to  an  absurdity,  and  as  such  I  shall  re- 
ject it.  I  cannot  serve  him,  and  not  serve  him ; 
think  of  him,  and  not  think  of  him ;  remember 
the  penalty  of  hell,  and  forget  it,  in  order  that 
I  may  fix  my  mind  with  earnestness  on  some- 
thing which  merely  concerns  this  lower  world. 
Besides,  in  a  matter  of  such  moment,  I  choose 
to  be  on  the  safe  side.  .  God  may  or  may  not 


io8  Modern  Christianity, 

have  laid  upon  me  some  purely  secular  task; 
I  cannot  tell:  but  I  can  tell,  supposing  your 
gospel  to  be  true,  that  he  has  threatened  me 
with  eternal  fire.  He  will  not  damn  me,  because, 
through  fear  of  his  awful  judgments,  I  make  my 
whole  life  a  life  of  incessant  prayer.  My  des- 
tiny for  ages  and  ages  to  come  is  of  such  over- 
whelming importance  to  me,  that  nothing  else  is 
worth  considering.  No  plausible  suggestions 
that  duty  summons  me  elsewhere,  no  subtle 
hints  that  I  have  duties  to  discharge  in  this  or 
that  society,  shall  turn  me  a  hair's-breadth  from 
the  one  purpose  of  my  life.  Stretched  out  in 
the  distance  before  me,  I  see  the  everlasting 
hell ;  and  he  who  comes  to  me  with  whisperings 
that  would  divert  my  gaze  towards  something 
else  shall  be  to  me  a  tempter  from  the  Evil 
One." 

"Well,"  said  I,  "on  some  few  men  of  a 
specially  sensitive  turn  of  mind,  the  fear  of  hell 
might  possibly  operate  in  the  way  which  you 
describe.  But  it  is  lucky  that  most  persons  are 
not  similarly  affected :  if  they  were,  the  world 
could  not  go  on." 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  109 

"The  old  argument  back  again.  I  thought 
we  had  disposed  of  that  objection  long  ago. 
And  suppose  the  world  did  not  go  on  ?  Admit- 
ting the  orthodox  belief  about  heaven  and  hell, 
what  possible  harm  could  happen  to  any  living 
soul,  if  all  mankind  agreed  to  leave  trade  and 
politics  alone,  and  kneel  before  God  with  prayer 
and  weeping  till  the  judgment-day?  " 

"If  mankind  agreed  to  any  thing  so  foolish, 
mankind  would  be  simply  thwarting  the  express 
designs  of  the  Almighty.  When  the  Creator 
made  this  earth,  he  meant  that  its  resources 
should  be  utilized ;  and  when  he  made  man 
supreme  over  his  other  works,  and  gave  him  a 
quick  intelligence  and  a  cunning  hand,  he  meant 
that  these  gifts  should  be  employed  "  — 

"  To  what  purpose,  may  I  ask  ?  " 

"  Indirectly,  to  the  glory  of  God,  but  osten- 
sibly and  practically,  no  doubt,  to  the  advance- 
ment and  prosperity  of  man." 

"  I  am  to  gather,  then,  that  man  was  sent  upon 
this  earth  in  order  that  he  might  work  out  his 
own  advancement  and  prosperity  ?  " 

"I  did  not  say  so,"  answered  I.  "I  should 
10 


no  Modern  Christianity \ 

rather  imagine  that  he  was  sent  on  earth  to  work 
out  the  salvation  of  his  soul." 

"  And  upon  what  theory  is  it  proposed  that 
the  attainment  of  two  such  very  distinct  objects 
should  be  combined,  —  that  man  should  work 
for  temporal  advancement  and  spiritual  welfare 
at  one  and  the  same  time  ?  " 

"  Upon-  this  very  simple  theory,  which  Scrip- 
ture and  common-sense  alike  suggest  as  the  only 
theory  that  can  stand.  A  man  must  choose  an 
honest  calling ;  must  labor  diligently  in  fulfilling 
its  duties;  must  be  temperate  in  his  habits, 
moderate  in  his  pleasures,  and  chaste  in  his 
behavior ;  must  love  his  neighbor  as  himself ; 
must  say  his  prayers  night  and  morning,  go  to 
church  on  Sunday,  and  do  his  best  to  follow  the 
prayers,  and  profit  by  the  sermon.  If  he  does 
this,  and  does  it  from  a  good  motive,  because  he 
knows  that  he  is  thereby  pleasing  God,  he  will 
have  solved  the  problem  how  to  combine  the 
attainment  of  temporal  advancement  with  spirit- 
ual welfare ;  and,  when  he  dies,  God  will  take 
him  to  heaven." 

"  Should  he,  unhappily,  fail  in  solving  this 
apparently  not  very  difficult  problem  ?  " 


a  Civilized  Heathenism. 


in 


"Why,  in  that  case,"  said  I,  "when  he  dies, 
he  will  go  to  hell." 

"  And  you  positively  mean  me  to  accept  it 
as  your  belief,  —  the  belief  of  an  intellectual, 
educated  man,  —  that  success  in  the  life  of  which 
you  have  just  drawn  a  picture  can  possibly  win 
heaven,  or  that  failure  in  such  a  life  can  possibly 
merit  hell  ?  My  dear  fellow,  you  must  perceive 
at  once  that  both  your  reward  and  your  punish- 
ment are  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  amount  of 
service  rendered  or  withheld.  The  average  life 
of  the  average  exemplary  layman,  who  gives 
most  of  his  time  to  business,  a  fair  proportion 
of  it  to  pleasure,  and  a  decent  scrap  of  it  to 
God,  could  neither  entitle  any  man  to  the 
eternal  blessedness  of  heaven,  nor  make  him  fit 
to  appreciate  its  joys.  Such  a  life  might,  indeed, 
be  a  suitable  preparation  for  some  future  state 
of  existence,  in  which  loftier  flights  of  commer- 
cial enterprise  might  be  attempted,  or  nobler 
triumphs  of  mechanical  skill  might  be  achieved ; 
but  such  a  life  could  never  lead  up  to  pleasures 
in  which  angels  take  delight,  or  discover  amid 
the  throng  of  ransomed  saints  the  haven  where 
it  would  be." 


112  Modern  Christianity, 

"  You  must  remember,"  I  observed,  "  that 
our  ideas  of  heaven  are  purely  conventional  and 
imaginary.  We  talk  to  children  about  white- 
robed  martyrs  singing  the  praise  of  God,  because 
such  a  thought  conveys  a  beautiful  and  appro- 
priate picture  to  their  childish  minds.  But  it  is 
far  more  probable  that  heaven  will  hereafter 
prove  to  be  a  state  of  existence  wherein  our 
occupations  will  be  something  like  those  of  this 
present  life,  but  purer  in  their  nature,  and  more 
exalted  in  their  aim." 

"  Well,"  replied  Curtis,  "  if  I  were  asked  to 
choose,  I  confess  that  I  should  be  inclined  to 
adopt  the  childish  theory  as  the  more  rational 
of  the  two.  At  any  rate,  if  you  do  not  accept 
the  angelic  and  aesthetic  idea  of  heaven,  you 
must  admit  that  Scripture  gives  you  no  other. 
And,  unless  Christianity  be  altogether  a  delu- 
sion, it  seems  to  me  that  the  Bible  representa- 
tion of  future  blessedness  must  be  received  as 
substantially  true.  It  is  the  only  theory  which 
is  in  the  least  degree  consistent  with  the  other 
Christian  beliefs.  For  heaven  was  purchased 
by  the  blood  of  Christ.  His  death  must  be 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  113 

taken  as  the  measure,  not  only  of  the  sinner's 
guilt,  and  of  his  punishment  in  hell,  but  also  of 
the  just  man's  standard  of  holiness,  and  of  his 
reward  hereafter.  It  could  not  have  been 
worth  while  for  Christ  to  die,  that  he  might 
win  for  man  grace  enough  to  enable  him  to 
serve  God  and  mammon  decently  in  this  life, 
and  enjoy  at  the  last  a  heaven  in  which  it 
should  be  his  highest  happiness  to  serve  God 
and  mammon  rather  better  than  before ;  but 
it  was  worth  while  for  Christ  to  die,  if,  by  his 
death,  he  might  procure  for  man  the  power  of 
closely  imitating  his  pure  and  spotless  life,  and 
might  thus  prepare  him,  day  by  day,"  for  fellow- 
ship with  himself  at  God's  right  hand.  You 
tell  us  in  your  sermons  that  Christ  is  the 
corner-stone  of  Christian  truth.  Let  me  tell 
you,  in  return,  that,  unless  Christ  be  the  corner- 
stone also  of  Christian  practice,  the  fabric  of 
your  Christianity  will  tumble  down.  Accept 
the  fact  that  his  example  is  literally  the  model 
of  every  Christian's  life,  and  all  things  con- 
cerning Christianity  become,  I  do  not  say 
credible,  but,  at  all  events,  intelligible,  and  con- 
10* 


H4  Modern  Christianity, 

sistent  with  themselves.  Then  the  precepts  of 
the  gospel  are  no  longer  unpractical  and  ridicu- 
lous, but  hold  up  a  standard  which  is  meant  to 
be  attained.  Then  heaven  ceases  to  be  the 
impossible  abode  of  easy-going,  good-natured, 
respectable  members  of  modern  English  society, 
who  could  not  by  any  means  appreciate  its 
joys ;  and  we  begin  to  comprehend  how  inces- 
sant private  prayer,  and  daily  public  worship, 
and  works  of  self-denial  and  mercy,  can  form 
the  only  fitting  preparation  for  a  state  of  bless- 
edness, wherein  the  vision  of  God  will  be  man's 
great  reward,  and  Christ  shall  shine  as  the  sun 
forever.  Then,  also,  the  mystery  unravels  it- 
self, how  man,  by  any  amount  of  wickedness, 
can  deserve  the  fearful  punishment  of  hell.  If 
Christ  has  given  him  a  model  which  he  may  fol- 
low if  he  will,  and  man  deliberately  rejects  it, 
laughs  at  it,  and  thwarts  and  hinders  those  who 
strive  to  copy  it,  with  his  bitterest  malignity  and 
spite ;  if  Christ  was  put  to  death  by  every  sin 
of  man,  and  man  persists  in  sinning  still,  that  he 
may  see  Christ  crucified  afresh,  and  horribly 
feast  his  eyes  upon  the  agony  of  his  God,  —  then 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  115 

it  becomes  intelligible  to  me  that  the  awful 
penalty  of  an  everlasting  fire  should  alone  suf- 
fice to  expiate  the  guilt  of  the  unrepentant 
sinner.  But  your  modern  theory  of  a  Christian 
life  and  its  reward  hereafter  is  more  than  I  can 
understand.  You  have  thrust  away  your  corner- 
stone ;  and  the  fair  fabric  of  Christianity  has 
become  a  ruined  heap  of  inconsistencies  and 
absurdities.  You  discard  the  example  of  Christ, 
because  to  follow  his  example  would  make  you 
ridiculous  in  the  sight  of  men,  —  the  very  thing 
which  he  declares  that  his  followers  must  always 
be.  You  thoroughly  enjoy  all  our  heathen  com- 
forts and  amusements ;  and  when  we  taunt  you 
with  your  dishonesty,  and  tell  you  that  you  are 
serving  God  and  mammon,  you  have  the  un- 
blushing impudence  to  look  us  sanctimoniously 
in  the  face,  and  assure  us  that  we  are  quite  mis- 
taken in  supposing  that  you  really  take  delight 
in  worldly  pleasures ;  that  you  only  indulge  in 
them  because  you  think  it  a  duty,  and  that  your 
heart  is  all  the  while  intently  fixed  on  higher 
and  purer  joys.  You  confess  that  this  life  is  but 
as  a  moment  in  comparison  of  eternity,  and  that 


Ii6  Modern  Christianity, 

at  every  instant  of  the  day  you  are  preparing 
yourselves  either  for  heaven  or  hell :  and  yet 
you  talk  as  heathen  talk,  and  laugh  as  heathen 
laugh,  and  dine  as  heathen  dine ;  doing  all 
these  things,  as  I  said  before,  not  because  the 
weakness  of  the  flesh  has  suddenly  betrayed 
you,  but  because  you  dare  to  pretend  that  God, 
the  Father  of  the  very  Christ  whom  your  sins 
have  murdered,  sent  you  into  the  world  in 
order  that  you  might  live  very  much  as  other 
men.  The  plain  fact  is,  my  friend,  that  you 
have  invented  for  yourselves  a  new  Christ,  and 
you  want  a  new  gospel,  and  a  new  heaven  and 
hell,  to  correspond.  And,  what  is  more,  you 
want  a  new  set  of  prayers  and  psalms.  I  don't 
know  whether  familiarity  has  bred  contempt, 
and  taught  you  to  look  upon  your  litany  and 
collects  as  an  unmeaning  form  of  words;  but  I 
do  know  this,  that  your  prayer-book,  from 
beginning  to  end,  breathes  the  spirit  of  such  a 
true  devotion,  places  the  suppliant  in  a  position 
so  touchingly  helpless  before  God,  so  abject  in 
his  dependence  upon  the  grace  he  seeks  through 
Christ,  so  deeply  contrite  for  the  sins  wherewith 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  117 

he  has  grieved  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  I,  a  wicked 
unbeliever,  can  scarcely  hear  it  read  without 
being  moved  to  tears.  How  can  one  who  has 
said  to  himself,  for  example,  the  Collect  for  the 
Sixth  Sunday  after  Epiphany,  or  for  Easter  Eve, 
or  the  General  Thanksgiving,  or  the  fifty -first  or 
hundred  and  nineteenth  psalm,  —  who  has  said 
these,  and  felt  them,  and  dwelt  upon  them  with 
any  approach  towards  earnestness  of  mind,  — 
how  such  a  man  can  leave  the  church  in  perfect 
good-humor  with  himself,  smiling  and  cheerful, 
and  light  of  heart,  and  talk  common  worldly 
talk  to  common  worldly  people  till  it  is  time  to 
go  to  service  again,  is  more  than  a  simple 
heathen  can  comprehend." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  I  expostulated,  "  you  set 
up  such  a  ridiculously  high  standard!  " 

"I  set  up  a  standard ?  Indeed,  I  do  no  such 
thing.  It  is  Christ,  your  professed  example, 
who  sets  up  the  standard.  It  is  the  eternity  of 
possible  bliss  in  heaven  that  sets  up  the  stand- 
ard. It  is  the  risk  of  falling  into  an  everlasting 
hell  that  sets  up  the  standard.  It  is  the  prayer 
that  you  mutter  with  your  own  false  lips  that 


1 1 8  Modern  Christianity ', 

sets  up  the  standard.  It  is  nothing  to  me.  I 
don't  want  you  to  follow  the  example  of  Christ : 
you  would  be  very  stupid  company  for  me  if 
you  did.  I  don't  want  you  to  live  as  if  you 
were  trying  to  win  a  place  in  heaven:  there 
would  be  few  points  of  sympathy  between  us  if 
you  did.  I  don't  want  you  to  talk  and  act  as  if 
you  were  thinking  of  your  solemn  litanies  in 
church :  we  should  see  but  little  of  each  other 
if  you  did.  All  I  say  is,  in  the  name  of  com- 
mon, decent  honesty,  be  one  thing  or  the  other. 
Be  a  Christian,  or  be  a  heathen.  Don't  repeat 
petitions  which  simply  have  no  sense,  except  in 
the  mouth  of  one  who  is  copying  Christ  in 
every  word  and  deed ;  and  then  turn  out  into 
the  world,  and  lead  a  life  a  trifle  better,  or  a 
trifle  worse,  than  that  of  an  intelligent  Hindoo. 
If  your  prayer-book  lessons  of  holiness  are  too 
strict  for  you,  have  the  candor  to  confess  it,  and 
own  that  your  psalms  are  out  of  date,  and  that 
your  collects  were  written  in  days  when  men 
regarded  Christ's  example  in  a  different  light 
from  the  light  which  civilization  and  common- 
sense  have  since  revealed  to  you.  If  a  Chris- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  119 

tian  can  repeat  his  confessions  and  thanksgivings 
without  actually  sobbing  aloud,  it  may,  at  any 
rate,  be  fairly  expected  that  he  cannot  repeat 
them,  and  really  feel  them,  without  hurrying 
home  after  service,  and  pouring  out  his  burst  of 
penitence  alone  in  his  secret  chamber  before 
God.  Do  you  think,  old  fellow,  that  your  good 
people  in  a  general  way  have  the  slightest 
notion  what  sort  of  a  life  it  is  to  which  the 
words  of  their  own  prayer-book  pledge  them  ? 
nay,  that  they  have  ever  taken  the  trouble  to 
reflect  what  their  litanies  and  kyries  mean  ?  " 

"I  hope  they  have,"  replied  I;  "but  you 
forget  that  a  Christian  is  bidden  to  do  other 
things  besides  weep  and  mourn.  St.  Paul  says 
that  we  are  to  '  rejoice  evermore ; '  and  the 
very  psalms  of  which  you  speak  are  full  of 
expressions  which  are  designed  to  move  the 
heart  to  gladness,  and  not  to  sorrow." 

"Yes,"  he  returned;  "and  here  is  yet 
another  instance  of  Scripture  perverted  and 
misapplied.  The  Bible  says  that  the  Christian 
is  to  rejoice;  but  how?  His  joy  is  to  be, 
from  first  to  last,  a  purely  spiritual  joy.  I  defy 


I2O  Modern  Christianity, 

you  to  produce  a  single  text  which  counte- 
nances your  taking  delight  in  any  earthly 
gratification  whatever.  Those  who  choose  to 
have  their  pleasure  now  will  lose  it  hereafter. 
It  is,  of  course,  quite  easy  to  conceive,  from  a 
Christian  point  of  view,  that  the  man  who  is 
daily  struggling  against  his  sins,  and  following 
the  steps  of  Christ,  should  be  inwardly  ten 
thousand  times  more  happy  than  the  worldly 
man.  On  his  knees,  in  close  communion  with 
his  Lord,  the  holy  and  pure  of  heart  may  be 
satisfied  with  a  fulness  of  joy  which  the  man 
of  pleasure  has  never  known.  But  apart  from 
Christ,  or  from  matters  in  which  Christ  is  more 
or  less  directly  concerned,  it  is  quite  impossible 
that  he  who  is  living  a  Christ-like  life  should  be 
merry  and  glad.  Even  if  he  could  feel  happy 
on  his  own  account,  there  is  the  wickedness  of 
many  whom  he  loves,  which  must  needs  distress 
him.  Would  you  believe  that  my  dearest 
friend  upon  earth  was  pn  trial  for  his  life, 
and  would  very  .probably  be  hanged,  if 
you  met  me  somewhere  at  five-o'clock  tea, 
talking  nonsense  to  some  young  lady  ?  So 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  121 

neither  will  I  believe  that  you  imagine  yourself, 
or  any  one  for  whom  you  care,  to  *stand  in 
danger  of  everlasting  torment,  when  I  see  that 
you  are  able  to  dismiss  the  subject  from  your 
thoughts,  as  if  there  were  no  particular  cause 
for  alarm.  I  cannot  believe  it.  Unless  you  are 
prepared  to  maintain  that  the  possibility  of 
damnation  forevermore  is  consistent  with  a 
careless,  joyous  laugh,  in  short,  that  the  pros- 
pect of  being  burnt  alive  through  countless 
ages  is  a  cheerful  prospect,  rather  than  other- 
wise, you  shall  hold  me  excused  if  I  pronounce 
my  opinion,  that,  somewhere  or  other  in  the 
relation  between  faith  and  practice,  there  exists 
among  you  modern  merry-making  Christians 
a  gigantic  absurdity ;  and  what  the  absurdity 
is,  any  poor  benighted  heathen  with  a  head  on 
his  shoulders  must  have  the  wit  to  see.  You 
are  trying  to  serve  God  and  mammon  :  you  are 
trying  to  make  things  spiritual  accommodate 
themselves  pleasantly  and  inoffensively  to 
things  material :  you  are  trying  to  make  Christ 
hide  every  characteristic  feature  of  his  face,  so 
that  he  may  walk  harmless  and  undisturbed 
11 


122  Modern  Christianity, 

among  the  haunts  of  men,  winking  at  their 
worldliness,  adapting  his  precepts  to  their  com- 
mon-sense, and  never  presuming  to  hurt  the 
feelings,  or  wound  the  self-love,  of  any  living 
soul.  This  is  what  you  are  trying  to  do  ;  and, 
in  making  the  attempt,  you  have  involved  your- 
selves in  a  maze  of  impossibilities.  In  support 
of  a  position  illogical  in  itself,  you  are  always 
most  illogically  arguing  backwards." 

"  What  upon  earth  do  you  mean  by  arguing 
backwards  ?  " 

*'  I  will  tell  you  what  I  mean.  You  paint  an 
ideal,  a  very  perfect  and  happy  ideal,  of  a 
gentleman  or  a  lady ;  you  invest  this  ideal 
with  all  the  qualities  which  go  towards  forming 
such  characters  in  life  as  one  delights  to  meet : 
and  then,  because  you  have  been  taught  to  look 
upon  Christ  as  the  highest  type  of  manhood, 
you  call  your  ideal  gentleman  a  Christian.  He 
is  no  more  like  Christ  than  he  is  like  the  stars. 
As  a  gentleman,  he  is  forced  to  do,  every  day  of 
his  life,  things  which  Christ  never  did ;  and  is 
forbidden  almost  to  speak  one  word  which 
Christ  ever  spoke.  If,  instead  of  arguing  back- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  123 

wards,  painting  your  ideal  first,  and  then  as- 
suming, that,  because  he  is  so  good,  he  must  be 
like  Christ;  if,  instead  of  this,  you  would  argue 
forwards,  would  consider  what  Christ  said  and 
did,  and  make  your  model  Christian  say  and  do 
the  same,  — you  would  very  soon  perceive  that 
the  words  "  Christian  "  and  "  gentleman  "  are  sim- 
ply contradictory.  A  gentleman  is  a  man  whom 
it  is  at  any  moment  a  pleasure  to  meet,  because 
you  may  be  sure  that  he  will  set  you  at  your 
ease,  and  do  or  say  something  to  make  you 
happy.  A  Christian  is  a  man  whom  it  is  at  all 
times  the  greatest  nuisance  to  meet,  because 
you  may  be  perfectly  certain,  if  he  be  really  in 
earnest,  that  he  will  do  his  best  to  make  you  as 
ill  at  ease  as  possible ;  will  remind  you  inces- 
santly of  the  flames  of  hell,  and  rebuke  you  to 
your  face,  regardless  of  good  manners,  for 
every  thing  you  do  or  say  which  savors  of  this 
present  world.  The  truth  is,  as  I  said  before, 
that  you  have  adopted  for  yourselves  the  best 
and  purest  form  of  civilization,  and  called  it 
Christianity.  It  is  not  Christianity  at  all.  Chris- 
tianity begins  just  where  the  best  and  purest 


124  Modern  Christianity^ 

form  of  civilization  leaves  off,  and  sets  to  work 
to  oppose  and  thwart  its  progress  at  every  turn. 
Civilization  permits  people  to  work  hard  all  day 
that  they  may  become  wealthy,  to  enjoy  thor- 
oughly their  hours  of  recreation,  and  to  sit 
down  to  a  comfortable  dinner  in  the  evening. 
Christianity  tells  a  man  that  he  must  give  his 
money  to  the  poor,  no  matter  whether  political 
economists  approve  or  not;  frightens  him  out 
of  his  wits,  in  the  midst  of  his  pleasures,  by  the 
threat  of  everlasting  fire ;  and  bids  him  leave  the 
dinner-table  as  soon  as  the  bare  wants  of  exist- 
ence are  supplied,  that  he  may  spend  the  rest 
of  the  evening  in  prayer  for  the  safety  of  his 
soul,  rather  than  in  the  refreshment  of  his  body. 
I  am  not  saying  that  this  is  what  men  and 
women  in  modern  society  ought  to  do.  Heaven 
forbid  that  any  fellow-guests  of  mine  should 
ever  be  so  eccentric !  All  I  say  is,  that  this  is 
clearly  what  Christianity  enjoins  them  to  do, 
and  that,  if  they  stop  short  of  this,  they  are  civ- 
ilized heathens." 

"Do  you  soberly  mean  me  to  gather  from 
your  words,  my  dear  Curtis,  that  a  man  cannot 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  125 

be  a   Christian  without  making  an  ass  of  him- 
self?" 

"  I  do  soberly  mean  you  to  gather  just  pre- 
cisely that  very  thing.  I  say  emphatically  that 
every  true  follower  of  Christ  must  needs  make 
himself  ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  worldly  people, 
in  the  opinion  of  modern  society,  every  time  he 
speaks  or  acts." 

"But,  my  dear  friend,"  I  expostulated,  "you 
really  have  no  right  to  force  upon  a  faith  so 
venerable  as  ours  a  reductio  ad  absurdum." 

"  That,"  answered  he,  "  is  no  affair  of  mine. 
You  must  get  out  of  any  such  difficulty  as  best 
you  may.  You  parsons  volunteer  these  extraor- 
dinary doctrines;  and  you  should  be  prepared 
to  accept  the  consequences  that  ensue.  It  is  a 
perfect  mockery  to  tell  me  that  I  must  imitate 
a  Christ,  who,  all  his  life,  was  covered  with 
reproach  and  ridicule,  and  in  the  same  breath 
to  tell  me  that  I  am  not  required  to  expose 
myself  to  ridicule  and  reproach.  It  is  sheer 
nonsense  to  threaten  me  with  a  hell  which  is  to 
torture  my  undying  body  forevermore,  and 
then  to  explain  that  it  is  by  no  means  intended 
11* 


126  Modern  Christianity^ 

that  I  should  be  terrified  continually  at  the 
thought  of  it.  This  is  part  of  your  genuine 
modern- Christian  plan  of  arguing  backwards. 
You  want  me  to  lead  a  pleasant,  gentlemanly 
life,  and  then  to  try  and  make  myself  believe 
that  this  was  the  life  which  Christ  led ;  when 
the  Bible  says  it  was  not.  You  tell  me,  that,  up 
to  the  last  minute  of  my  existence,  I  shall  be  in 
danger  of  the  everlasting  flames  of  hell ;  and, 
when  I  object  that  the  bare  possibility  of  such  a 
fate  leaves  me  no  choice  but  to  weep  and  groan 
from  morning  till  night  incessantly,  you  say 
that  I  am  forcing  upon  your  most  holy  faith  a 
reductio  ad  absurdum,  and  that  I  am  a  wicked 
infidel  for  my  pains.  Whether  there  be  a  hell, 
or  no,  may  be  judged  a  matter  of  opinion  ;  but 
it  can  be  no  matter  of  opinion  what  sort  of  life 
those  who  stand  in  peril  thereof  must  lead.  All 
the  doctors  and  fathers  and  schoolmen  that 
ever  lived  cannot  alter  the  inexorable  law  that 
pain  is  dreadful,  and  the  pains  of  hell  so  un- 
utterably dreadful,  that  no  man  can  believe  in 
them,  and  smile.  Your  Christian  doctrines  are 
too  tremendous  ever  to  appear  trivial.  If  they 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  127 

are  true  at  all,  they  are  so  awfully  true  as  to 
leave  us  no  room  for  any  thought  beside  them. 
Do  what  you  will,  you  cannot  change  eternal 
fire  into  any  thing  else  but  fire  eternal.  Theo- 
logically, n©  doubt,  it  would  be  highly  conven- 
ient that  there  should  be  a  hell  and  no  hell, 
a  heaven  and  no  heaven,  a  Christ  and  no 
Christ.  But  it  is  only  theologically  that  such 
fictions  can  stand :  for  practical  purposes,  we 
must  have  one  thing  or  the  other.  If  you  will 
only  believe  it,  my  friend,  there  is  no  middle 
way  between  the  Christianity  of  Christ,  and 
downright  infidelity.  Heaven  becomes  utter 
nonsense,  unless  it  was  opened  to  all  believers 
by  the  sharpness  of  Christ's  death,  and  unless 
those  alone  shall  win  it,  who,  through  ridicule 
and  insult  and  shame,  have  visibly  at  every 
moment  crucified  themselves  into  fellowship 
with  his  sufferings.  Hell  becomes  utter  non- 
sense, unless  it  is  the  penalty  of  sins  so  horrible, 
that  the  Christian  ought  to  spend  half  his  life 
upon  his  knees,  weeping  for  his  own  and  his 
brother's  guilt.  Your  prayer-book  becomes 
utter  nonsense,  unless  the  Christian  worshipper 


128  Modern  Christianity, 

leaves  the  house  of  God  with  downcast  face 
and  tearful  eyes,  afraid  to  lose  by  lightsome 
gesture  the  grace  that  he  has  received,  and 
bravely  resolving  that  men  may  scoff  and  sneer 
and  persecute,  but  he  will  clothe  his  very  life 
and  conversation  with  the  words  that  he  has 
offered  up  in  prayer.  Your  gospel  becomes 
utter  nonsense,  unless  it  is  the  record  of  One 
who  came^  to  set  his  mark  forever  upon  a 
handful  of  devoted  followers,  who  in  every 
generation  should  be  known  from  all  others  by 
their  likeness  to  their  Lord,  who  should  be 
hated  of  all  men  for  his  name's  sake,  who 
should  literally  and  in  every  sense  renounce 
this  present  world,  and  lay  up  for  themselves  a 
treasure  in  the  world  to  come.  These  are  the 
signs  by  which  I  should  look  to  distinguish  the 
Christianity  of  Christ.  But  I  see  no  such  signs 
in  the  modern  English  Christian;  and  therefore 
I  remain  a  heathen.  By  this  fourfold  test  I 
try  you,  —  by  your  prayers,  your  preaching, 
your  hopes,  and  your  fears;  and  I  find  your 
lives  wanting  at  every  point.  You  follow  the 
example  of  a  Christ  of  whom  the  gospel  does 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  129 

not  tell :  you  utter  prayers  which  commit  you 
to  such  a  life  as  you  do  not  pretend  to  lead : 
you  talk  of  a  heaven  so  little  precious  in  your 
eyes,  that,  for  the  sake  of  winning  it,  you  can- 
not give  up  the  paltry  joys  of  earth:  you 
whisper  solemnly  about  a  hell  whose  terrors  sit 
so  easily  upon  your  mind,  that  any  trifling  pursuit 
suffices  to  drive  the  thought  of  them  far  away. 
This  is  the  personal  witness  on  which  a  reason- 
able creature  in  search  of  truth  is  asked  to 
believe  in  the  astounding  miracle  of  the  incarna- 
tion and  death  of  God.  Pardon  me,  my  friend, 
if  I  assure  you  that  such  testimony  will  convince 
no  man  whose  assent  is  worth  obtaining.  To 
take  one  test  only  from  among  the  four  by 
which  I  am  trying  you,  —  it  is  enough  to  turn 
a  believer  into  an  infidel,  to  hear  one  of  your 
average  parsons  discourse  about  the  punishment 
of  hell.  He  declares,  for  instance,  that  those 
who  do  not  hate  and  speedily  renounce  every 
kind  of  sin  will  be  cast  into  the  lake  of  brim- 
stone. He  declares,  moreover,  that  although 
every  one  who  hears-  him  may,  if  he  pleases, 
obtain  grace  enough  to  enable  him  to  avoid  this 


130  Modern  Christianity \ 

terrible  doom,  it  is,  nevertheless,  almost  a  cer- 
tainty that  only  a  few,  a  very,  very  few,  will 
seek  that  grace,  and  use  it.  Therefore  it  follows, 
as  a  logical  consequence,  that  nine-tenths  or 
three-fourths,  or  any  fair  proportion  you  please 
to  take,  of  the  average  Sunday  congregation, 
will  suffer  excruciating  torture  forever  and  for- 


evermore." 


"  How  dare  you,"  I  remonstrated,  —  "  how 
dare  you  make  such  cold-blooded  calculations  ? 
I  shudder  to  hear  you  use  language  so  fearfully 
wicked.  The  Bible,  you  must  know,  expressly 
discourages  any  speculation  as  to  the  number  of 
the  lost  or  saved." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  answered  Curtis,  "  I  do 
not  dare  to  make  any  calculations  at  all.  I 
merely  take  the  general  estimate,  as  I  find  it 
laid  down  in  the  orthodox  sermon.  All  preach- 
ers to  whom  I  have  ever  listened  agree  in  de- 
claring that  only  a  small  minority  of  mankind 
will  probably  be  saved.  A  small  minority 
means,  I  suppose,  about  one  in  ten ;  but  it  shall 
mean  nine  in  ten,  if  anybody  likes  that  better. 
The  question  of  a  few  more  or  a  few  less  is 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  131 

quite  immaterial  to  my  argument.  If  one  man 
in  a  congregation,  or  one  man  in  a  parish,  or 
one  man  in  a  diocese,  is  going  to  be  burnt  alive 
for  millions  upon  millions  of  centuries,  I  do  not 
quite  see  how  the  minister  whom  God  has 
appointed  to  rescue  his  soul  can  ever  sleep  at 
night,  or  ever  contemplate  so  horrible  a  destiny 
without  floods  of  tears.  On  the  average  minis- 
ter, however,  this  responsibility  seems  to  sit  very 
lightly.  He  delivers  his  most  awful  message ; 
he  tells  his  people  plainly  that  if  they  sin  they 
will  be  damned ;  he  knows  for  certain  that  they 
will  go  on  sinning  all  the  same ;  and  under  a 
grave  apprehension,  not  to  say  a  strong  impres- 
iou,  that  several  of  his  cherished  acquaintances 
and  kindly  neighbors  will  be  devoured  in  flames 
unquenchable,  he  walks  home  to  his  vicarage, 
jokes  with  his  wife,  romps  with  his  children, 
chaffs  his  friend,  sits  down  comfortably  to  his 
luncheon,  and  thoroughly  enjoys  his  slice  of  cold 
roast  beef,  and  his  glass  of  bitter  beer.  Will 
any  man  in  his  senses  believe  that  he  means 
what  he  has  just  been  saying  in  his  sermon  ?  Of 
course,  he  will  believe  nothing  of  the  sort ;  and 


132  Modern  Christianity^ 

therefore  it  has  come  to  pass  that  England  is  full 
of  intelligent  laymen  who  doubt  and  disbelieve. 
How,  indeed,  should  they  accept  such  teaching  ? 
The  judge,  when  he  sentences  a  criminal  to  a 
mere  transient  death,  speaks  with  broken  voice, 
and  scarcely  restrains  his  tears.  The  priest, 
the  minister  of  God,  can  talk  of  the  intolerable 
death  eternal  of  souls  committed  to  his  charge, 
and  talk  of  it  with  placid  face,  in  neatly -rounded 
phrases,  and  calm,  collected  tones.  Will  any 
one  believe  him  ?  Ah,  no !  He  may  win  ap- 
plause for  his  eloquence,  but  he  will  not  souls. 
His  congregation  will  watch  him  home,  and  see 
how  his  own  words  tell  upon  his  life ;  and  when 
they  find  that  he  can  give  up  his  Monday 
morning  to  worldly  business,  and  his  Tuesday 
afternoon  to  worldly  pleasure,  while  the  fire, 
according  to  his  own  account,  is  being  already 
kindled,  which  may  devour  the  choicest  of  his 
flock,  they  will  take  his  Sunday's  sermon  for 
what  it  is  worth,  and  nothing  more.  He  may 
please  to  imagine  that  he  believes  in  an  ever- 
lasting hell ;  but,  when  next  he  proclaims  his 
belief,  he  can  hardly  be  offended  if  the  straight- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  133 

forward  Briton  should  shake  his  head,  and 
smile." 

"  Then  do  you  mean  to  say,"  I  inquired, 
"  that  the  parson  has  not  a  perfect  right  to  his 
wife,  and  his  luncheon,  and  his  bitter  beer  ?  " 

uHe  has  every  possible  right,"  rejoined 
Curtis,  "as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  to  all  the 
good  things  which  his  means  may  enable  him 
to  procure.  But  then,  you  see,  I  do  not  believe 
in  his  doctrine.  No  more  does  he.  He  cannot 
hold  it,  and  care  for  a  single  earthly  joy.  As 
long  as  there  remains  but  the  suspicion  of  a 
chance,  that,  if  he  fails  in  bringing  men  to 
Christ,  he  will  be  burnt  alive  forever,  so  long, 
if  he  have  ordinary  human  feelings,  will  every 
thought  of  his  heart  be  given  to  the  one  work 
in  hand.  He  may,  at  some  moment  of  tempta- 
tion, forget  the  doom  which  threatens  him; 
or  he  may  have  altogether  failed  to  realize 
what  everlasting  punishment  actually  means ; 
or  he  may  dismiss  the  matter  from  his  mind 
as  an  incomprehensible  mystery,  which  he  is 
bound  to  teach,  but  which  he  cannot  seriously 
believe.  But  if  he  does  believe  it ;  if  he  lite- 
12 


134  Modern  Christianity, 

rally,  truly,  honestly  believes  that  for  millions 
upon  millions  of  ages,  as  long  as  God  himself 
exists,  God  will  torment  in  hell,  with  agonies 
intolerable,  an  overwhelming  majority  of  the 
men  and  women  and  children  now  living 
merrily  upon  this  earth,  —  if  he  can  believ 
this,  and  all  the  while  can  eat  and  drink,  and 
laugh  and  play,  and  go  to  his  bed  in  peace, 
he  must  be  without  exception  the  most  extraor- 
dinary person  that  the  great  Creator  ever 
made." 

"  Well,"  said  I,  after  thinking  for  a  while, 
"making  allowance  for  your  absurdly  exagge- 
rated way  of  putting  things,  I  am  bound  to 
acknowledge  that  your  fourfold  test  of  a  true 
religion  is  theoretically  sound.  We  ought,  of 
course,  to  imitate  Christ,  to  live  as  we  pray,  to 
cherish  the  thought  of  heaven,  and  to  dread 
hell.  One  thing,  however,  which  occurs  to  me 
is  this,  —  that,  if  your  standard  of  Christian  holi- 
ness were  generally  adopted  (I  won't  distress 
you  by  saying  that  '  the  world  could  not  go  on,' 
but),  the  species  could  not  be  propagated.  Art, 
science,  literature,  and  every  legitimate  occu- 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  135 

patlon  of  man,  would  have  to  be  sacrificed  at 
once ;  and  the  great  human  family  itself  would 
speedily  disappear." 

"If  it  be  so,"  replied  my  friend,  "  even  then, 
unless  you  can  show  where  my  argument  breaks 
down,  I  shall  but  have  made  it  the  more  appar- 
ent that  your  religion  is  a  superstition  and  an 
absurdity.  But,  supposing  myself  to  be  a 
Christian,  I  should  strongly  hesitate  to  admit 
your  position,  that  the  truest  type  of  a  Christ- 
like  life  need  interfere  with  matrimony,  or  with 
art  and  science  in  their  devotional  application. 
The  instinct  which  leads  man  to  seek  a  wife 
must  be  just  as  divine  in  its  appointment  as 
that  which  teaches  him  to  eat  when  he  is 
hungry,  or  sleep  when  he  is  tired;  and  the 
chaste  husband  has  positively  nothing  more  in 
common  with  the  man  of  unclean  life  than  he 
who  has  partaken  sparingly  of  the  simplest  food 
has  with  the  drunkard  who  is  being  disgrace- 
fully carried  home.  Besides,  I  can  readily  con- 
ceive how  the  bringing-up  of  children  in  the 
fear  of  God,  and  the  fashioning  of  a  household 
after  a  strictly  scriptural  model,  should  beget  a 


136  Modern  Christianity, 

daily  succession  of  duties  eminently  Christian. 
It  is  difficult,  perhaps,  to  concede  that  matrimony 
is  equally  open  to  the  priest,  simply  because 
one  does  not  understand  how  he  can  possibly 
find  time  for  even  the  preliminary  steps  which 
such  a  state  entails.  Think,  for  example,  what 
mischief  the  Devil  might  do  in  the  parish,  while 
the  parson  was  making  love  to  the  squire's 
daughter.  But  for  priest  and  layman  alike 
there  must  be  a  variety  of  secular  pursuits 
available,  wherein  the  mind  of  each  might  find 
its  needful  refreshment,  and  whereby  the  glory 
of  God  might  be  directly  and  visibly  promoted. 
In  the  first  place,  there  is  natural  history.  Con- 
sidering that  the  great  and  wise  Creator,  as 
you  gentlemen  profess  to  believe,  has  made  in 
England  alone  something  like  ten  thousand 
species  of  insects,  and  more  than  seventeen 
hundred  wild  -flowers,  —  to  say  nothing  of  sea- 
weeds, snails,  funguses,  and  creatures  of  divers 
kinds  innumerable,  — it  is  not  much  to  your 
credit  that  scarcely  one  so-called  Christian  in  a 
thousand  should  know  a  moth  from  a  butterfly, 
a  beetle  from  a  cockroach,  or  a  hawkweed  from 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  137 

a  dandelion.  Then  there  is  architecture,  music, 
painting,  poetry,  every  one  of  which,  as  your 
churches  and  cathedrals  testify,  may  be  conse- 
crated to  the  service  of  God.  The  Primate  of 
all  England  is  said  to  have  expressed  an  opinion, 
in  his  recent  charge,  that  the  musical  portion 
of  your  cathedral  services  is  '  overdone.'  It 
has  been  very  much  the  reverse  of  'overdone,' 
in  any  case  within  my  own  observation. 
Among  much  that  was  extremely  beautiful,  I 
have  generally  chanced  to  hear  your  noble  aisles 
and  transepts  desecrated  with  a  composition 
which  was  about  as  worthy  of  performance  in  a 
Gothic  choir  as  the  daubings  of  some  village 
sign-painter  would  be  worthy  of  a  place  in  the 
National  Gallery ;  and  which  was  performed 
after  a  fashion  such  as  any  educated  audience 
in  a  concert-room  would  have  saluted  with 
hisses  and  groans.  In  fact,  a  comparison  of 
your  cathedrals  with  the  music  celebrated 
therein  provokes  a  somewhat  instructive  con- 
trast- between  the  Christianity  of  your  fore- 
fathers and  the  heathenism  of  yourselves.  You 
have  abandoned  that  extravagance  of  Christian 


138  Modern  Christianity, 

love  which  lavished  decoration  ungrudgingly 
on  roof  and  arch  and  pillar,  that  God  might 
have  the  best  of  every  thing,  whether  any  prac- 
tical end  were  served,  or  not;  and  you  have 
adopted  the  calculating  rule  of  genuine  heathen 
economy,  by  which  every  occupation  in  which 
man  is  not  earning  either  money  or  temporal 
enjoyment  is  very  properly  regarded  as  a  simple 
waste  of  time,  is  reduced  to  the  scantiest 
dimensions  possible,  and  is  rendered  with  the 
minimum  of  cost  and  the  minimum  of  labor. 
Unless  your  glorious  relics  of  ecclesiastical  art 
are  to  testify  to  the  pious  superstition  of  your 
ancestors,  but  to  nothing  more,  there  surely 
must  be  scope,  beneath  the  shadow  of  their 
walls,  for  the  development  of  many  a  hallowed 
taste,  the  dedication  of  many  a  precious  gift, 
and  the  employment  of  many  a  half-hour  spared 
from  the  day's  routine  of  bread- winning,  and 
sacrificed  to  God.  I  am  glad,"  continued 
Curtis,  "  that  our  subject  has  led  us  to  speak 
of  cathedrals;  because  I  can  soberly  declare 
that  nothing  which  I  see  around  me  tends  so 
constantly  to  confirm  my  view  of  the  barefaced 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  139 

heathenism  of  modern  Christianity  as  the  atti- 
tude which  you  nineteenth-century  churchmen 
have  assumed  towards  these  monuments  of 
ancient  piety.  You  possess  an  inheritance  of 
noble  structures,  which,  on  your  present  prin- 
ciples, it  would  be  considered  a  wanton  misuse 
of  capital  to  build ;  and  you  perform  therein  a 
service  meagre,  miserable,  and  mean,  every 
accent  of  which  gives  the  palpable  lie  to  your 
claim  of  fellowship  with  the  Christian  architect 
of  old.  You  will  never  persuade  us  infidels  that 
you  believe  in  God,  until  every  Christian  among 
you,  moved  by  decent  gratitude  for  benefits 
received,  kneels  twice  every  day  in  his  cathe- 
dral or  his  parish  church,  and  there,  with  voice, 
with  alms,  or  with  whatever  talent  God  has 
bestowed  upon  him,  bears  his  part  in  offering 
the  most  faultlessly  beautiful  act  of  worship 
which  Christian  art  can  devise." 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  I,  "people  nowa- 
days have  something  else  to  do.  We  are  practi- 
cal men ;  and  we  simply  have  not  time  to  go 
to  church  every  day,  and  offer  up  such  a  service 
as  you  propose." 


140  Modern  Christianity^ 

"  Was  Christ  a  practical  man  ?  "  asked  Curtis 
in  return  ;  "  or  was  he  one  who  outraged  every 
worldly  maxim,  and  set  common-sense  at  defi- 
ance every  time  he  spoke?  Ah,  my  friend! 
how  is  it  that  you  will  not  have  the  honesty  to 
confess  that  Christ  has  grown  old-fashioned  in 
your  eyes,  and  that  you  have  become  a  heathen 
for  the  purpose  of  enjoying  more  comfortably 
this  present  life,  retaining  in  the  background  a 
mere  sentiment  of  Christ,  to  help  you  to  look 
forward  with  complacency  to  the  life  eternal? 
It  is  your  dishonesty,  and  not  your  dogmatizing, 
which  has  lost  for  you  your  influence  over  the 
hearts  of  men.  You  might  teach  a  hundred 
Athanasian  Creeds,  with  a  hundred  damnatory 
clauses  added  on  to  each,  if  only  you  lived  and 
moved  as  men  who  believed  such  dogmas  to  be 
true.  But  you  must  not  cling  fast  to  Christ 
when  you  want  to  claim  unity  with  him  in 
doctrine,  and  break  away  from  him,  as  if  he 
were  out  of  date,  when  you  want  to  be  merry 
like  other  men.  They  tell  me  that  your  bishops 
are  likely  soon  to  meet  in  conference,  for  the 
purpose  of  deciding  what  concessions  shall  be 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  14 r 

made  to  the  public  as  regards  the  Athanasian 
Creed.  They  may  save  themselves  the  trouble. 
The  public  don't  want  any  concessions  in  any 
matter  so  totally  beside  the  point  at  issue. 
When  your  creeds  have  been  mangled  and 
mutilated  till  no  ancient  council  would  recog- 
nize them,  your  psalms  and  collects  will  still 
remain,  to  set  the  layman  wondering  what  upon 
earth  you  mean ;  and  every  sentence  of  your 
gospel  will  ring  out  its  mocking  comment  on  the 
average  priest's  or  bishop's  life,  as  a  damnatory 
clause.  What  all  men  everywhere  demand,  and 
what  you  parsons  obstinately  refuse  to  grant,  is 
a  plain  answer  to  the  very  plainest  question  that 
mortal  lips  have  ever  framed.  We  want  to 
know  whether  the  Christianity  of  the  New 
Testament  is  false  or  true ;  whether  Christ  was 
a  great  philosopher,  who  taught  men  noble 
principles  of  action,  and  showed  them  how  to 
be  happier  and  healthier  in  this  present  world ; 
or  whether  he  is  the  very  and  eternal  God,  who 
took  upon  him  human  flesh  that  we  might  know 
for  certain  how  human  creatures  ought  to  live ; 
who  died  on  the  cross  to  win  for  us  the  power 


142  Modern  Christianity, 

to  imitate  his  brave  contempt  for  earthly  digni- 
ties and  joys ;  who  watches  us  at  this  moment 
from  his  throne  in  heaven,  to  see  whether  we 
cling  to  him,  as  his  disciples  clung,  through 
insult  and  suffering  and  shame,  or  deny  him  by 
following  the  fashions  of  a  world  which  con- 
demned its  Lord  to  die.  Tell  us,  in  simple, 
straightforward  words,  which  of  these  things 
Christianity  is  (it  cannot  be  both  of  them), 
which  of  these  things  Christ  is  (he  cannot  be 
both  of  them)  ;  and  we  shall  know  what  sort  of 
value  to  set  upon  your  threats  of  everlasting 
fire.  But  it  is  too  soon  to  talk  to  us  of  being 
burnt  alive  for  a  whole  eternity,  when  you  have 
not  yet  succeeded  in  convincing  us,  by  any 
special  solemnity  in  your  life,  or  any  tokens  of 
holy  dread,  as  you  move  in  and  out  among  us, 
that  you  yourselves  are  altogether  satisfied  of 
the  reality  of  Christ's  life  and  death,  of  the 
necessity  of  copying  his  example,  of  the  un- 
speakable blessedness  of  heaven,  or  the  aven- 
ging flames  of  hell.  You  see,  old  fellow,  there 
is,  unfortunately,  so  very  much  about  your 
religion  which  looks  shuffling  and  unreal !  Your 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  143 

miracles  won't  '  come  off,'  except  on  condition 
that  no  very  scientific  witnesses  are  standing  by. 
Your  God  is  said  to  be  a  spirit,  because  such  a 
description  affords  a  convenient  way  of  account- 
ing for  the  somewhat  suspicious  circumstance 
that  no  mortal  creature  has  ever  seen  him. 
Your  heaven  is  a  place  for  which  only  one  sort 
of  life  can  possibly  be  a  preparation;  and  this 
life  you  do  not  lead.  Your  hell  is  the  scene  of 
tortures  so  terrific  that  no  human  being  can 
contemplate  them  without  turning  pale ;  and 
you  don't  seem  one  bit  afraid  to  run  the  risk  of 
being  sent  there.  Now,  all  these  things  bear 
the  manifest  stamp  of  unreality ;  and  unreality 
is  repulsive  to  the  mind  of  every  honest  man. 
When  you  talk  to  the  clear-headed  Briton  of 
such  a  religion  as  this,  you  can  only  expect, 
as  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen  says  so  happily,  with  ref- 
erence to  another  subject,  somewhere  in  '  The 
Alpine  Journal,'- -  you  can  only  expect  that 
your  intelligent  listener  will  '  put  the  tongue  of 
incredulity  into  the  cheek  of  derision.'  Well 
may  you  say  that  infidelity  is  making  rapid 
strides.  Its  strides  will  become  more  rapid 


144  Modern  Christianity r, 

still.  As  civilization  advances,  so  does  Chris- 
tianity appear  more  and  more  absurd.  Fifty 
years  hence,  your  grandsons  will  laugh  at  your 
simplicity,  just  as  you  laugh  now  at  the  worship- 
pers of  the  great  goddess  Diana.  Your  par- 
sons will  have  turned  their  hands  to  some  more 
honest  trade ;  and  your  churches  will  begin  to 
serve  a  more  practical  purpose,  as  museums  of 
science  and  art.  Reasonable  beings  will  have 
grown  ashamed  of  an  idle  and  foolish  supersti- 
tion, which  bribes  men  with  the>  promise  of 
impossible  delights,  and  frightens  them  with  the 
threat  of  impossible  horrors,  just  as  the  silly 
nursemaid  frightens  your  child  with  stories 
about  Bogy  coming  round  the  corner  to  gobble 
him  up." 

"  I  am  sadly  afraid,"  said  I,  trying  to  look 
severe,  "that  I  shall  have  to  give -you  up,  as  a 
hardened  infidel." 

"Indeed  you  will,"  was  the  reply,  "unless 
you  are  prepared  to  favor  me  with  proofs  which 
are  decently  substantial.  Let  me  see  Christians 
imitating  Christ,  —  imitating  not  a  Christ  whom 
I  could  fashion  for  myself  out  of  materials 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  145 

purely  heathen,  not  a  Christ  whom  society  ac- 
cepts already  as  the  pattern  philosopher,  the 
embodiment  of  common-sense,  the  ideal  man, 
but  a  Christ  who  at  every  point  is  making  him- 
self an  intolerable  offence  to  the  un-Christlike, 
a  thorn  and  a  scourge  to  every  man  who  does 
not  lie  stretched  at  the  foot  of  his  cross,  weeping 
over  the  sins  which  nailed  him  there,  loving 
him  with  a  love  which  all  the  world  can  see, 
and  fearing  only  lest  he  should  sharpen  the 
agony  of  his  Saviour's  death  by  one  unkind  or 
unholy  word.  Show  me  a  Christian  who  is  imi- 
tating visibly  such  a  Christ  as  this,  and  I  will 
show  you  a  heathen  (heathen  not  out  of  stub- 
born choice,  but  heathen  because  there  is  no 
evidence  before  him  yet  to  make  him  any  thing 
better),  —  I  will  show  you  a  heathen  who  will 
confess  that  'this  marvellous  tale  of  Christ  and 
heaven  has  become  credible  to  him  at  last,  now 
that  the  marvellous  witness  he  has  looked  for  is 
forthcoming;  for  then  it  will  be  possible  for 
me  logically  to  understand  how  God  has  left  off 
working  miracles,  not  because  the  newspaper 
reporter  is  looking  on,  and  will  publish  the 

18 


146  Modern  Christianity^ 

proceedings  in  to-morrow's  '  Times,'  but  be- 
cause he  has  made  the  life  and  conversation  of 
his  chosen  ones  an  ever-present  miracle  in  the 
sight  of  men,  —  because  he  has  given  his  priests 
the  superhuman  courage  to  defy  public  opinion, 
to  endure  hatred,  ridicule,  and  scorn,  to  oppose, 
obstruct,  and  harass  every  creed  and  custom  of 
society,  with  the  very  same  uncompromising 
faithfulness  wherewith  their  Master  opposed  it, 
when  he  provoked  and  exasperated  the  Jews, 
till  they  murdered  him  out  of  very  spite  and 
fury.  I  know  for  certain  how  Christ  would  be 
treated  if  he  were  here.  I  can  see  the  press 
deriding  him,  the  fine  lady  picking  her  way 
past  him  in  the  street,  the  poor  flocking  round 
him  as  a  friend,  the  magistrate  committing  him 
to  prison.  Let  me  see  his  witnesses  treated 
thus,  and  I  will  believe  that  he  has  sent  them. 
Their  Christ-like  life  in  the  face  of  cold  modern 
refinement,  in  the  teeth  of  cruel  common-sense, 
shall  be  to  me  a  miracle  no  less  stupendous  than 
the  feeding  of  five  thousand  in  the  wilderness, 
or  the  raising  of  Lazarus  from  the  dead.  But 
while  I  see  them  claiming  the  right  to  live  as 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  147 

other  men,  glorying  in  the  fact  that  they  have 
no  peculiarities,  smiling  politely  on  sin,  and 
caressed  by  those  who  would  have  spat  upon 
their  Lord,  —  so  long  as  I  see  them  thus,  they 
shall  teach  me,  if  they  please,  the  principles  of 
Christ's  philosophy ;  but  they  shall  not  dare  to 
tell  me  that  they  are  priests  of  a  crucified 
Christ." 

"Well,"  said  I,  "I  think  I  can  produce  a 
man  whose  life  pretty  well  fulfils  the  conditions 
you  lay  down;  but  then,  poor  fellow,  he  is  as 
mad  as  a  hatter." 

"What  is  his  name?  and  what  special  signs 
of  insanity  does  he  display?" 

"  He  is  a  parson  of  the  name  of  Ainslie.  He 
came  into  a  lot  of  money  some  years  ago,  with 
which  he  built  a  magnificent  church  in  a 
wretchedly  poor  district  cut  off  from  my  parish. 
He  still  has  a  very  large  income ;  but  he  lives 
on  about  two  pounds  a  week,  and  gives  all  the 
rest  away.  He  scarcely  eats  or  drinks  or  sleeps, 
and  does  not  very  often  speak,  unless  you  say 
something  to  '  fetch '  him ;  and  then,  by  Jove ! 
he  does  speak,  and  to  some  purpose  too.  When 


148  Modern  Christianity, 

he  first  came  here,  he  went  a  good  deal  into 
society ;  but  he  used  to  say  such  very  strange 
things  at  dinner,  that  people  were  constantly 
getting  up,  and  leaving  the  room.  He  never 
dines  out  now ;  and  there  is  not  a  gentleman  in 
the  town  who  would  not  punch  his  head  if  he 
met  him  at  his  hall-door.  The  poor  people  like 
him  tremendously:  he  is  as  gentle  as  a  lamb 
with  them  •  but  the  sight  of  a  decently  dressed 
man  or  woman  in  a  carriage  seems  to  drive 
him  perfectly  insane.  Poor  fellow !  I  am  very 
sorry  for  him.  He  is  awfully  nice  in  so  many 
ways!  and,  if  he  would  only  hold  his  tongue, 

he  would   be   the   most  popular  man  in . 

Such  a  generous  fellow  too!  It  was  only  yes- 
terday that  I  found  out  something  accidentally 
about  him,  which  I  don't  think  anybody  else 
knows.  Some  Dissenting  minister,  who  is  editor 
of  a  low  radical  newspaper  in  the  town,  wrote 
a  lot  of  scurrilous  articles,  not  long  ago,  accus- 
ing Ainslie  of  crimes  and  follies  which  neither 
he  nor  anybody  else  ever  dreamed  of  commit- 
ting. Of  course,  Ainslie  took  no  notice  of  the 
thing  whatever;  in  fact,  he  never  knew,  until 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  149 

quite  lately,  that  any  thing  of  the  sort  had  been 
written ;  and  the  editor,,  encouraged  by  his 
forbearance,  and  thirsting  for  popularity  among 
the  roughs,  proceeded  further  to  attack  the 
private  character  of  Lord  Hungerford,  our 
great  conservative  peer.  Lord  Hungerford 
communicated  with  his  lawyer,  and  the  lawyer 
communicated  with  the  editor ;  and  the  end  of 
it  was,  that  the  gentleman  of  the  press  was  con- 
demned in  costs  to  an  enormous  amount,  and 
must  inevitably  have  been  locked  up  in  jail, 
had  not  an  anonymous  donation  been  put  into 
his  solicitor's  hands,  which  covered  all  his  lia- 
bilities, and  set  him  straight  again.  The  rever- 
end editor  flatters  himself,  to  this  day,  that  the 
gift  was  bestowed  by  some  admiring  friend  in 
his  congregation ;  but  I  happen  to  know,  and  I 
mean  some  day  to  inform  my  radical  parishioner, 
that  Ainslie  himself  was  the  giver." 

"I  tell  you  what,"  cried  Curtis,  starting  up, 
"  I  should  like  to  know  that  fellow.  Could  you 
take  me  to  him  ?  " 

"H'm,"  said  I,  looking  at  my  watch;  "one 
could  hardly  go  and  knock  a  man  up  at  a 

13* 


150  Modern  Christianity, 

quarter  past  eleven.  And  yet  I  don't  know. 
Ten  to  one  we  shall  find  him  in  his  chancel, 
where  he  spends  pretty  nearly  half  the  day  and 
night,  praying.  We  will  go  now,  if  you  like. 
There  is  a  lovely  moon ;  and  the  church  is  not 
above  half  a  mile  from  here." 

The  half-mile  being  accomplished,  we  found 
the  chancel-door  unlocked,  and  the  beautiful 
choir  and  richly-clothed  altar  lit  up  with  more 
than  daylight  splendor  by  the  tranquil  glory  of 
the  moon.  I  recollect  its  occurring  to  me,  as 
I  closed  the  door,  that  this  was  the  way  in 
which  I  would  put  it,  if  ever  I  wanted  to 
describe  a  midnight  visit  to  a  church.  Against 
the  south  wall  knelt  Ainslie,  his  hands  at  one 
time  clasped  together,  at  another  time  clutching 
at  the  pillars  of  the  sedilia,  and  his  body 
moving  restlessly  about,  as  if  in  pain.  He  was 
evidently  lost  in  the  fervor  of  his  prayer ;  and 
we  made  so  little  noise,  that  he  did  not  hear  us 
enter.  His  words  were  murmured  rather  than 
spoken  ;  and  his  voice  and  gestures  had  clearly 
escaped  beyond  control.  For  a  few  seconds  he 
would  kneel  in  perfect  stillness,  till  the  sorrow 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  151 

which  he  seemed  to  have  been  nursing  the 
while  burst  out  in  a  passionate  sob,  and  the 
man  appeared  to  be  struggling  with  himself  for 
some  tremendous  mastery,  or  crushing  to  utter 
extinction  some  unwelcome  thought  that  haunted 
him.  At  such  a  time  his  cry  for  help  rang 
piteously  through  the  silent  night,  as  he  half 
sighed,  half  shouted,  the  long,  wailing  whisper 
of  his  trouble ;  and  at  such  a  time  it  was  that 
Curtis  and  myself,  unwilling  to  stop  and  listen, 
but  more  unwilling  to  retreat,  gathered  up,  and 
stored  in  our  memories  for  many  and  many  a 
day,  the  fragments  of  his  prayer. 

I  will  not  venture  to  transcribe  it:  indeed, 
the  words  were  far  too  sacred  to  be  written 
here.  But  the  point  which  struck  me  so 
forcibly,  in  Ainslie's  language  no  less  than  in 
his  tone,  was  this :  the  way  in  which  the  man 
had  somehow  got  himself  into  the  visible 
presence  of  Christ,  till  he  made  you  feel  that  he 
was  literally  following  his  Master  about  through 
every  incident  of  the  past  day,  and  bringing  all 
his  actions,  one  by  one,  before  his  great  Example, 
to  see  how  far  and  whereabouts  he  had  failed. 


152  Modern  Christianity, 

It  became  evident  to  me,  in  spite  of  any  thing 
which  my  natural  sense  declared  to  the  con- 
trary, that  the  Christ  to  whom  he  prayed  was 
at  this  moment  every  whit  as  close  to  him  as 
he  had  ever  been  to  St.  Peter  or  St.  John.  He 
laid  hold  of  him,  he  appealed  to  him,  he 
caught  at  his  hand  for  help,  he  looked  up 
wistfully  for  his  smile,  he  shrank  away  like  a 
frightened  child  from  his  tenderest  reproach. 
Christ  was  there,  —  nobody  could  doubt  it,  — 
there,  in  that  very  chancel,  holding  communion 
with  that  prostrate  form.  Christ  was  there  : 
and,  as  for  me,  I  knew  that  I  was  outside  the 
circle  wherein  he  could  be  seen  and  felt;  that  I 
was  one  of  those  wh'o  thronged  and  pressed,  but 
could  not  get  nigh  to  touch ;  nay,  I  told  myself, 
in  sober  earnest,  that  I  was  a  very  scribe  or  a 
Pharisee,  looking  superciliously  on.  How  many 
a  long  day  and  night  must  this  poor  fellow  have 
spent  upon  his  knees,  before  he  could  have 
learned  how  to  bring  Christ  as  near  as  this ! 
How  must  his  whole  life  have  become  one  un- 
ceasing prayer !  How  must  his  very  breath,  as  it 
came  and  went,  have  been  drinking  down  deep 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  153 

draughts  of  grace,  and  sighing  up  to  Heaven 
for  more !  I  could  not  help  wondering  whether 
many  of  our  bishops  or  deans  or  canons  or 
influential  country  rectors,  the  apostles  of  the 
modern  English  Church,  were  thus  engaged  at 
this  particular  time,  or  were  likely  to  be  found 
similarly  occupied  at  any  time  whatsoever; 
and  my  mind  unconsciously  ran  back  to  glimpses 
of  comfortable  libraries  and  snug  arm-chairs,  for 
which  the  portly  figure  of  the  occupant  had 
almost  been  measured  with  tape  and  line.  I 
thought  of  the  pleasant  hours  that  one  might 
spend  in  such  a  room,  "  administering  "  a  diocese, 
or  "  organizing "  parochial  work,  while  the 
curate  or  the  Sister  of  Mercy  went  pottering 
about  the  lanes.  I  pictured  to  myself  the  hour 
of  luncheon,  and  the  well-dressed  wife  and 
daughters,  and  the  substantial  meal ;  and  I 
fancied  that  I  saw  the  master  of  the  house  look 
rather  cross  because  the  kidneys  were  not 
devilled  half  enough,  and  because  the  minced 
veal,  which  the  cook  knew  perfectly  well  was 
the  only  other  dish  that  he  could  touch  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,  had  been  pretty  nearly  poi- 


154  Modern  Christianity -, 

soned  with  too  much  lemon.  Then  I  heard  the 
plans  for  the  afternoon  discussed,  —  which  of  the 
party  would  ride,  and  which  would  drive,  and 
what  were  the  visits  that  ought  to  be  paid ; 
while  some  of  the  younger  ladies  ventured  to 
speculate  about  the  dinner-party  in  the  evening, 
whether  it  would  go  off  well.  This  carried  me 
down  to  seven  or  eight  o'clock,  when  the  host 
would  courteously  entertain  his  friends,  and  his 
friends  would  drink  his  wine,  and  praise  it, 
discoursing  about  it  eagerly,  affectionately,  as 
if  it  were  a  subject  dear  to  their  inmost  soul. 
And  thus  I  travelled  back  into  the  drawing- 
room,  where  all  was  blaze  and  brilliancy,  and 
women  smiled  and  sparkled,  each  one  holding 
her  court-  as  a  radiant  queen,  to  whom  men 
paid  pretty  little  acts  of  homage,  and  simpered 
pretty  little  unmeaning  words.  All  this  came 
rapidly  before  me  ;  and  I  could  not  but  contrast 
a  day  and  night  so  spent  with  the  days  and 
nights  of  my  poor  mad  friend  kneeling  in  the 
moonlight ;  and  I  wondered  what  Christ  would 
have  thought  of  it  all,  and  whether  he  would 
have  been  most  at  home  with  Aiuslie,  in  his 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  155 

isolation  from  the  world,  or  with  my  hospitable 
dignitary,  whose  liberal  table  was  so  good  for 
trade,  and  whose  genial  habits  did  so  much  to 
cement  a  happy  union  between  the  clergy  and 
the  laity.  The  contrast  forced  itself  upon  me ; 
but  I  would  not  permit  myself  to  draw  an 
inference  which  I  felt  to  be  unkind.  The  social 
life  of  the  average  dignitary  could  not,  I  felt 
sure,  be  altogether  a  mistake.  In  so  many 
ways,  by  private  acts  of  friendship  and  in  public 
ministrations,  such  men  had  won  my  cordial 
affection  and  esteem ;  and  it  was  quite  im- 
possible to  contemplate  them  as  indulging  one 
single  gratification  which  Christ  would  not  ap- 
prove. Ainslie  must,  unquestionably,  be  wrong ; 
and  I  gladly  took  refuge  in  my  old  belief  that 
the  poor  fellow  was  morbid  or  melancholy  mad. 

These  thoughts  were  still  chasing  one  another 
through  my  mind,  and  I  had  scarcely  formed 
my  last  conclusion,  when  Curtis  also  began  to 
demonstrate  very  perceptible  signs  of  being 
moved  as  deeply  as  myself  by  Ainslie's  exceed- 
ing earnestness. 

"  Look  here,  old  fellow,"  he  whispered,  in  a 


156  Modern  Christianity, 

broken  voice  ;  "I  positively  cannot  stand  any 
more  of  that,  you  know.  Let  us  come  away 
home." 

Ainslie,  however,  was  by  this  time  aroused ; 
and  we  two  had  hardly  escaped  through  the 
chancel-door,  when  he  joined  us  in  the  church- 
yard. Having  explained  and  apologized  for  our 
intrusion,  I  introduced  him  to  Curtis ;  and  we 
then  learned  that  he  was  waiting  up  to  visit,  for 
the  third  time:  that  day,  a  parishioner  of  noto- 
riously evil  life,  who  had  been  struck  down 
suddenly  with  scarlet-fever,  and  was  expected 
to  die. 

"  The  doctor  has  sent  me  away  twice,"  said 
Ainslie ;  "  but  he  promised  that  I  should  go 
again  somewhere  about  this  time,  if  every  thing 
went  on  well ;  and  he  is  going  to  send  a  boy  to 
fetch  me." 

"  Have  you  had  the  scarlet- fever  yourself, 
may  I  ask  ?  "  said  Curtis. 

"  Never,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then  I  almost  wonder  that  you  are  not 
afraid  to  go." 

" My   life,    sir,"    answered   Ainslie,    "is    not 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  157 

mine,  that  I  should  give  it,  or  spare  it,  as  may 
please  me  best.  It  is  little  enough  that  I  have 
ever  done  for  Christ;  and,  if  I  can  serve  him 
better  in  my  death  than  in  my  life,  I  can  wish 
nothing  happier  for  myself  than  that  I  may 
die." 

At  this  moment  the  youth  whom  Ainslie  was 
expecting  appeared  upon  the  scene,  and  carried 
him  off  to  the  sick  man's  chamber.  He  wished 
us  both  a  cordial  good-night,  and  started  off  on 
his  mission  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  a 
great  work  to  do,  and  meant  to  do  it. 

"  There  is  a  reality  about  that  fellow,"  ob- 
served Curtis,  as  we  were  walking  home,  "which 
upsets  me  altogether.  I  never  saw  any  thing 
like  it  before." 

"  Yes,"  answered  I :  "his  character  has  so 
many  good  points,  that  one  cannot  help  feeling 
for  him.  It's  a  thousand  pities  that  he  is  so 
frightfully  mad." 

"  Ah !"  said  Curtis :  "  they  said  something  like 
that  about  Christ,  didn't  they  ?  —  and  about  St. 
Paul,  and  all  the  rest  of  them.  Mad  ?  Yes,  he 
certainly  must  be  mad.  Mad  means  different 


158  Modern  Christianity, 

from  everybody  else ;  and,  if  Christ  were  now 
on  earth,  he  would  be  so  totally  different  from 
you  modern  English  Christians,  that  you  would 
most  infallibly  put  him  into  an  asylum." 

During  the  next  few  days  my  friend  and  I 
abandoned  ourselves  entirely  to  autumn  manreu- 
vres,  and  became  too  deeply  engrossed  in  the 
tactics  of  Northern  and  Southern  armies  to  talk 
much  about  civilization  and  Christianity.  When 
the  March  Past  was  over,  and  we  south-country 
rustics  had  seen  such  a  sight  on  our  Wiltshire 
downs  as  we  shall  never  see  again,  I  drove 
Curtis  back  to  my  quiet  little  parsonage-house, 
and  busied  myself  with  a  sermon  on  the 
evidences,  wherewith  I  hoped  to  convert  him 
from  the  error  of  his  ways,  on  the  ensuing 
Sunday. 

I  had  just  concluded  an  argument  so  unan- 
swerable that  it  must  needs  convince,  I  felt  sure, 
the  very  stubbornest  heathen,  when  an  ancient 
matron,  who  kept  house  for  my  friend  Ainslie, 
was  shown  into  the  room.  Her  master,  she 
said,  had  been  "  took "  with  the  fever.  He 
would  go,  though  warned  of  the  consequences, 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  159 

so  he  would.  It  must  always  be  a  comfort  to 
her  that  she  had  done  her  duty  by  him,  so  it 
must.  But  gentlemen  were  so  hard  to  manage, 
that  she  did  not  know  how  ever  they  could 
expect  to  keep  their  health,  no  more  she  didn't. 
From  all  which  I  gathered  that  I  really  was 
wanted  at  my  poor  friend's  house ;  and,  indeed, 
on  my  arrival  at  his  bedside,  I  found  that  I  was 
not  a  minute  too  early.  Curtis,  rather  to  my 
surprise,  was  already  there;  and,  from  certain 
indications  in  his  face  and  manner,  I  could  not 
doubt  that  some  specially  earnest  conversation 
had  passed  between  the  two. 

41 1  have  been  telling  him,"  said  Ainslie,  in  a 
faint  and  gasping  voice,  laying  his  hand  on  Cur- 
tis's  arm,  "I  have  been  telling  him  how  right 
he  is.  It  is  Christ,  Christ  only,  Christ  en- 
tirely, Christ  as  he  lived  and  as  he  died;  not 
Christ  as  we  modern  cowards  have  dressed  him 
up,  so  that  he  may  look  like  other  men.  It  is 
Christ,  or  else  it  is  nothing.  We  are  literally 
copying  his  life,  or  else  we  are  civilized,  gentle- 
manly heathens.  For  Christian  truth  has  all 
the  elements  of  a  profound  absurdity,  excepting 


160  Modern  Christianity, 

just  this  one  only  element,  that  it  is  real.  Take 
away  its  reality,  and  it  becomes  ridiculous  and 
impossible.  Our  mysteries  are  fables,  unless  we 
mean  them :  our  God  is  a  myth,  unless  we  show 
him  visibly  to  men.  We  cannot  hold  our  own 
against  the  clever  sceptic,  because  we  have  let 
go  Christ ;  and  Christianity  without  Christ  is,  of 
all  philosophies,  the  most  unphilosophical.  Ri- 
diculous, indeed,  to  the  mind  of  the  natural  man 
our  faith  must  always  be,  and  must  have  been 
intended  to  be,  for  it  belongs  to  another  world 
than  the  world  in  which  he  moves ;  but,  unless 
we  live  out  our  profession  in  downright  earnest, 
we  make  it  ridiculous  also  to  him  who  would 
fain  believe.  Our  theory  of  a  Creator  is  ridicu- 
lous, our  history  is  ridiculous,  our  miracles  are 
ridiculous,  our  heaven  and  hell  are  the  most 
ridiculous  of  all.  In  this  only  are  we  better 
than  ridiculous,  —  that,  at  the  very  least,  we  are 
not  ashamed  to  abide  by  our  own  absurdities ; 
that  we  are  brave  enough  not  to  flinch  from  the 
logical  issues  of  our  creed ;  that  we  have,  at 
any  rate,  sufficient  sense  to  see,  that,  if  our 
choice  is  to  lie  between  things  temporal  and 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  161 

things  eternal,  no  charter  of  Christian  privilege 
yet  conveyed  to  us  can,  by  any  possibility,  give 
us  the  right  to  choose  them  both  together. 
Times  are  not  changed:  it  is  a  device  of  the 
Evil  One  to  teach  men  so.  Christ  is  as  he  was  : 
his  disciples  are  as  they  were.  He  can  no  more 
walk  about  our  streets  without  insult  and  cruel 
mockings  now  than  he  could  walk  scathless 
about  Jerusalem  in  days  of  old.  As  men 
treated  him  in  the  year  33,  so  do  they  treat  him 
in  1872,  and  so  will  they  treat  him  also  in  thirty- 
three  times  1872.  He  is  Christ;  and  good- 
natured,  worldly  men  and  women  hate  him.  Let 
the  Christian  priest  take  this  as  the  gauge  of  his 
faithfulness,  —  that  good-natured,  worldly  men 
and  women  hate  him  too.  Oh,  if  they  should 
love  him,  and  flatter  him,  and  welcome  him  at 
their  godless  feasts,  and  make  him  free  of  their 
heathen  pleasures,  how  will  he  face  that,  day, 
when  his  Lord  shall  search  him  through  and 
through,  and  look  for  the  marks  of  scourge  and 
rod,  but  look  in  vain  ;  and  feel  for  the  long 
furrows  that  the  ploughers  should  have  ploughed 
upon  his  back,  but  find  no  furrows  there  ?  .  .  . 


1 62  Modern  Christianity^ 

0  Thou  who  hast  borne  with  me  so  tenderly  all 
these  years,  and  now  wilt  take  to  thyself  the  life 
wherein  I  have  given  thee  back  so  little  of  thy 
love !  accept,  as  my  last  poor  offering  of  grati- 
tude, the  thanks  I  render  thee  for  this  great  and 
exceeding  mercy;  that,  as  I  have  followed  — 
ah,  so  imperfectly !  —  thy  blessed  steps,  thou 
hast  ever  walked  before  me,  not  as  a  new 
Christ,  grown  dainty  and  refined,  to  suit  the 
civilization  of  the  age,  but  as  the  selfsame 
Christ  of  whom  the  gospel  tells  me,  — poor,  and 
persecuted,  and  laughed  to  scorn." 

Three  weeks  have  passed  since  the  foregoing 
pages  were  written ;  and  my  friend  Curtis  has 
returned  to  London,  to  resume  his  practice  at 
the  bar.  We  stood  together  at  dear  Ainslie's 
grave,  till  the  last  notes  of  the  resurrection 
service  had  died  away,  and  the  choristers  had 
come  up  by  turns  to  cast  in  their  parting  gift 
of  flowers,  and  take  a  long  farewell  of  one 
whose  like  they  will  never  see  again.  Poor 
boys !  it  was  as  much  as  they  could  do  to  keep 
their  voices  steady,  as  they  sang  the  anthems 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  163 

and  psalms ;  and  more  than  once  I  feared  that 
they  would  utterly  break  down.  But  I  think 
even  their  unaffected  childish  sorrow  touched 
me  less  than  the  strong  flood  of  tears  which 
kept  on  bursting  again  and  again  from  sturdy 
men  and  women  who  stood  and  wept  on  every 
side.  Not  only  was  the  churchyard  crammed 
to  overflowing,  but  the  street  itself  would 
scarcely  hold  the  crowd  of  mourners.  They 
who  had  misrepresented  him,  calumniated  him, 
ground  their  teeth  at  him  for  the  pure  example 
that  he  shed,  now  stood  apart,  and  brushed  off 
the  great  drops  that  started  from  their  eyes, 
lest  their  weakness  and  their  self-upbraiding 
should  be  seen.  Ah  !  "  We  fools  accounted  his 
life  madness,  and  his  end  to  be  without  honor. 
How  is  he  numbered  among  the  children  of 
God !  and  his  lot  is  among  the  saints." 

Three  weeks  have  passed ;  and  I  have  just 
come  back  from  a  visit  to  the  grave,  over  which 
I  have  got  into  the  habit  of  liking  to  offer  up  a 
daily  prayer  that  my  death  may  be  as  full  of 
hope  as  his,  and  my  life  —  well,  I  have  got  into 
the  habit,  I  am  afraid,  of  not  liking  to  think 


164  Modern  Christianity, 

much  about  my  life,  since  the  day  when  I 
stood  with  Curtis  in  the  chancel-doorway,  and 
listened  to  our  dear  friend's  prayer.  When  I 
had  left  a  poor  handful  of  late  autumn-flowers 
upon  the  mound,  I  looked  in  at  the  open  door 
by  which  we  had  entered  on  that  memorable 
night,  and  started  with  surprise  to  see  a  figure 
kneeling  just  where  Ainslie  had  knelt,  weeping 
just  as  he  had  wept,  and  swinging  itself  to  and 
fro  with  deep  and  passionate  emotion.  There 
could  be  no  question  who  it  was.  A  travelling- 
bag  and  a  coat  and  umbrella  lay  close  by  on 
the  pavement ;  and  I  guessed  at  once  that 
Curtis  had  suddenly  formed  the  idea  of  paying 
me  a  second  visit,  that  he  had  just  walked  from 
the  station,  and  was  recalling  his  memories  of 
Ainslie  by  the  way.  I  did  not  choose  to  dis- 
turb him  at  that  particular  moment :  so  I  crept 
out  of  sight  and  hearing,  and  left  him  kneeling 
still. 

Whether  my  friend  was  simply  moved  by  the 
very  true  sorrow  with  which  he  mourned  dear 
Ainslie's  loss,  or  whether  in  that  pure  life  and 
saintly  death  he  has  discovered  the  witness 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  165 

which  he  sought,  and  has  become  a  Christian, 
I  shall  probably  learn  from  his  own  lips  this 
evening.  Of  this  much,  however,  I  feel  well 
assured,  —  that  whatever  step  such  a  man  may 
ultimately  take  will  be  taken  in  thorough 
earnestness  of  purpose  ;  and  that,  if  he  should 
indeed  resolve  to  offer  himself  to  Christ,  he 
will  love  him  with  all  his  heart  and  soul. 

For  myself,  I  walked  slowly  and  sadly  home, 
feeling  more  and  more  dissatisfied  with  my  own 
position,  and  becoming  at  every  moment  more 
and  more  persuaded  that  this  modern  Chris- 
tianity of  ours  is  neither  better  nor  worse  than 
heathenism,  civilized  and  refined;  that  our 
God  is  to  most  of  us  the  same  mere  abstract 
divinity,  the  same  imaginary  personification  of 
good,  as  the  gods  of  classical  mythology  to 
the  Roman  or  the  Greek;  that  it  is  not  one 
whit  more  possible  to  serve  two  masters  now, 
than  when  the  great  truth  first  was  spoken, 
eighteen  centuries  ago;  and  that  there  is 
absolutely  no  middle  course  left  open,  to  any 
reasonable  man,  between  the  literal,  untiring 
imitation  of  Christ,  in  life  and  death,  and  the 


1 66  Modern  Christianity, 

downright  refusal  to  believe  that  he  either  lived 
or  died. 

Supernatural  beliefs,  I  went  on  to  think,  do 
undoubtedly  demand  supernatural  lives ;  and,  if 
it  is  not  worth  our  while  to  live  the  one,  it  is 
utterly  foolish  to  profess  the  other.  At  any  rate, 
we  have  no  right  to  brand  the  average  worldly- 
minded  man  as  an  unbeliever,  and  threaten  him 
from  the  pulpit  with  intolerable  agonies  in  hell, 
when  we  meet  him  every  day  on  equal  terms,  and 
eat  his  dinner,  and  drink  his  wine,  and  should 
think  it  very  bad  taste  to  rebuke  his  worldliness 
to  his  face,  and  very  chicken-hearted  to  burst 
into  tears  at  the  thought  of  his  dreadful  doom. 
We  have  no  right  to  appropriate  a  host  of  Pagan 
virtues,  as  if  they  belonged  exclusively  to  our- 
selves; as  if  "heathen"  were  synonymous  with 
"  cannibal,"  and  no  one  but  a  Christian  could 
possibly  be  generous,  or  considerate,  or  kind. 
All  these  years  we  have  been  preaching  the 
gospel  of  unreality  to  the  world;  and  the 
world  seems  as  far  from  conversion  as  ever. 
Is  it  not  rational  to  suppose  that  our  efforts  to 
make  people  good  and  happy  might  be  more 


a  Civilized  Heathenism.  167 

successful,  if  we  lived  visibly  before  society  as 
men  to  whom  this  earth  is  absolutely  nothing, 
and  the  day  of  judgment  is  the  only  matter 
worth  a  moment's  thought ;  or  else  admitted 
honestly  that  our  standard  has  hitherto  been 
too  high,  that  we  have  exaggerated  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  hereafter,  that  Christ  is  but  the 
idol  of  a  popular  superstition,  and  that  it  is 
enough  for  men  to  live  soberly  and  peaceably 
in  this  present  world? 


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